Simple Wars
by dangerousdreamer101
Summary: All Shanara ever wanted was to help people, but after one fateful night her entire world is ripped apart. How will she survive down on earth as the only adult among the diverse and dangerous delinquents? Who's the real enemy? Future OCxRoan. The 100 by Kass Morgan.
1. Chapter 1

**I am a big fan of The 100 book series by Kass Morgan, which the TV show is also based on. When I was writing this, I took most of most of my inspiration from the books compared to the show, although in future chapters I will be basing my fanfiction around pivotal scenes from the show, as well as use characters from the show that are not present in the Kass Morgan books.**

 **Just in case some of you haven't read the books or haven't seen the show, you may be introduced to some new characters and lingo. While the show did cover the basis of the type of life which is lived up on the Ark (SPOILER - or how it was lived since no one lives on it anymore), the books have a far more detailed disruption that I refer to in my fanfiction.**

 **(Book) The Colony = (Show) The Ark**

 **The Ark is actually called The Colony in the books and it is the ship which is up in space. In the books it has three section, which are three different ships which are connected by a sky bridge. 1) Phoenix 2) Walden 3) Arcadia. In the books, people on who live on Phoenix usually have better lives compared to those on the two outer ships, since they are given the best jobs and resources.**

 **Hopefully my little explanation helps clear up any confusion some may have. I've explained quite a few things in the fanfiction anyways.**

 **Hope you all enjoy, please review!**

* * *

Shanara had lived on Phoenix her entire life. Her father held a very high position in the Guard, while her mother was a well respected doctor on the Colony. The three of them had always lived a comfortable life on Phoenix, although Shanara often resented the way those who lived on Arcadia and Walden were mistreated. She hadn't always been that way though. Shanara was 9 years old when she crossed the sky bridge over from her lavish lifestyle on Phoenix, to the more deprived areas of the Colony. It was an area her mother had warned her about. A place she was told not to go. But as a young girl, accompanied by a friend of the same age, she went when she was supposed to be in school. Before then, she was oblivious to the way her life was infinitely better than those on the outer ships. She was shocked and scared of its harsh reality, at how many suffered from malnutrition and at the lack of basic reserves like water and light. At such a young age, Shanara thought she could fix it, make all of their problems go away.

She went alone after that, since her friend hated the way it smelt on Walden and was frightened by the Arcadians they saw on their adventure to the other side. But as Shanara got older, she frequented the two outer ships less, spending her time in lessons, with her mother on the medical deck, or she spent her time with some of her few friends. What she saw on Walden and Arcadia though, resonated with her everyday.

Shanara finished her general studies at age sixteen, like all teenagers on the Colony, then it came time for her to pick a job. She had wanted to be a doctor since she was very young, so when she was offered the only position available as a medical apprentice that year, she took it. Doctors were a necessity on the Colony, however they were not always in demand. There were never more than twenty doctors employed at one time since resources would be spread too thinly, meaning there were only openings every couple of years. Shanara liked to think her dedication awarded her the opportunity, although she understood the main reason she was offered the position was because her mother was a well respected doctor and Phoenician, so Shanara vowed to make the most of the opportunity many were denied.

All medical apprentices are taught enough general medical knowledge to graduate the program and become doctors after two years. Although a select few were asked to specialise. Shanara graduated from the medical apprenticeship over a year ago, when she was eighteen. Now nineteen, she works full time on the medical deck, which is situated on Phoenix. She is even lucky enough to have the opportunity to study under Dr Abigail Griffin, the Chief of Medicine, and specialise in surgery. Although there is one medical apprentice younger than her, Shanara is the youngest qualified doctors on the Colony.

It is a slow day on the medical deck and only three are on staff. Dr Griffin is treating the patient that came in in the morning with a severe chest ache, Dr Haldon Evans is stuck doing inventory, and Shanara is doing the hourly rounds.

"Her urine has begun to clear," Shanara motions toward patient 8, looking over the chart.

"Good," Dr Griffin sighs as she approaches. "We've nearly gone over the IV limit."

Shanara frowned. It is illegal to exceed the IV fluid limit, so if patient 8 had needed more there was nothing they could have done for her.

On the Colony, the Exodus Charter is law. It outlins the legal limits of all the resources each person on the Colony is permitted to use and receive. All resources are rationed. Food, water, medicine, clothing, and electricity. The Exodus Charter also states anyone caught exceeding these legal limits are committing a crime, and all crimes are punishable by death. However big or small it may be, all those who are caught die by flotation. Although, the Exodus Charter does not only outline the legal limits on resources, it also holds policies on marriage and procreation. Before a couple is wed, it must be approved by the Senior Council, and after they are married, they are only permitted to have one child. Falling pregnant before marriage is illegal. If discovered, the father is put to death and the mother too, after the child is born. A couple found to have more than one child has also committed a crime punishable by death. However, if a person is caught committing a crime before the age of 18, they are imprisoned in a sky cell first, where their case is reviewed by the Senior Council on their 18th birthday. Sometimes, depending on the crime, they could receive a lesser sentence than death, although it rarely happens.

These laws were put in place to control the Colony's available resources and its population. The ship isn't getting any bigger, and after over a hundred years on it, things are beginning to fail and resources are coming to an end. But the Exodus Charter also means people are given impossible choices, doctors most of all. Some patients need more medicine than the law allows, meaning they have to make hard decisions. Doctors can either follow the law and let them die, or risk their lives and try and supply the patient with an illegal amount of medicine that could save their lives. Some have tried the latter before, but not one doctor has ever gotten away with it. Shanara's heart broke the first time she had to make that decision. She cried for hours after. Her mother had told her it gets easier with time, but Shanara doesn't believe her.

"How is Clarke doing?" Shanara asks as she moves on to the next patient.

Clarke was a medical apprentice 2 years her junior, and she is Dr Griffin's daughter. Although they weren't really close, they grew up around each other and often got along when they did happen to speak. Their mother's are colleges and friends, and both Shanara and Clarke began spending more time together after Clarke became a medical apprentice. She sometimes shadowed Shanara, which they both enjoyed. Clarke was always inquisitive and had a thirst for knowledge, much like Shanara. She knew Clarke Griffin was going to be a great doctor, but she was imprisoned before she managed to graduate. They charged Clarke with treason, and her father too. None of it made sense to Shanara. She knew something wasn't right, that's why she began visiting her.

"They haven't let me visit her for the past 2 weeks," Shanara informs Dr Griffin.

She uses her father's position on the Guard to pull some strings, which makes it much easier for her to visit Clarke once a week or so for the past couple of months without getting into too much trouble. But lately, something's changed. The Guards won't let Shanara see her and it's made her worry.

"She's fine," Dr Griffin smiles and turns away. "She's been sick, so they didn't want it to spread."

"Of course," Shanara says, an unsettling feeling growing in her stomach.

"Thank you," Dr Griffin grabs Shanara's arm then. "For everything you've done for Clarke."

Shanara nods in response, but she can't help but feel as though Dr Griffin's words are some sort of message. Her word's feel like some sort of goodbye, and Shanara can't help but wonder if she will ever see Clarke again.

Shanara completes the rounds just before she is due to finish her shift. She is filling in a little paperwork when a frantic woman runs onto the medical deck with a young girl in her arms. Shanara shifts into motion in an instant, running over to the woman and helping the girl onto an empty bed.

"I'm Dr Preston," Shanara tells the woman. "Tell me what happened."

"She-"

The woman hides her face with her hands, sobbing into them.

"She fainted... She's been sick all week," She manages to mumble, reaching for the young girl's hand.

"What's her name?" Shanara asks.

"Josie," she says.

Shanara quickly takes the pen torch from her pocket and check Josie's pupils. Taking the stethoscope from around her neck, she check's her heart. She then takes out her tablet and finds Josie's profile and previous medical history. Shanara looks up from her tablet then, turning to the woman.

"Are you Sara Dunning, Josie's mother?" She nods quickly, holding her hand to her mouth while tears fall from her eyes.

"Mrs Dunning," Shanara starts, making her voice as calm and as soothing as possible. "How long as Josie been sick?"

"Um," Mrs Dunning mumbles again, trying to remember. "She hasn't been feeling right for maybe over a week now?"

"What have her symptoms been?" Shanara begins taking Josie's blood pressure.

"She's been feeling tired for the past few weeks. But she's always been lively before then, I mean, she's only 5," Mrs Dunning takes a deep breath to calm herself before continuing. "She's been saying that her tummy hurts for a week now, and she's been so thirsty lately."

"Has she been eating regularly? Getting plenty of fluids?"

It's a routine question, one that needs to be asked in order to make a full diagnosis. Although in hindsight, Shanara should have known. She has spent enough time around people who lived on Walden and Arcadia to know that this family is from one of the two outer ships. Shanara knows the injustice they face. She knows that they do not receive enough rations.

Mrs Dunning has stopped crying now, and she looks at Shanara with somewhat of a hidden hatred.

"My husband was floated 7 weeks ago. They cut our weekly rations. It's been a struggle to feed us both. I give what I can to Josie," she reaches for her daughter's blonde hair. "But it's not enough. Not for a growing girl."

All doctors on the Colony are from Phoenix and have most definitely never had to go hungry. Shanara understands the look that she is being given. She has been at the receiving end of it many times before, and she doesn't blame them for it. It's no secret that those born on Phoenix have a better life than those on the outer ships, but Shanara is a doctor for a reason. From a young age she knew she could never change the law. It had been the same for 97 years, and no amount of negotiations is going to change it. But as a doctor, Shanara can make a real difference.

She looks at the young girl, then back at the mother. She stares at Mrs Dunning, begging her to understand.

"I'm going to run some tests and I'm going to figure out what is wrong with your daughter," Shanara tells her. "I will do whatever I can to make her better."

For a fleeting moment the hatred Mrs Dunning has for Shanara is gone, replaced with a glimmer of hope.

* * *

"You're right, it is PBC," Dr Griffin tells Shanara, looking at the test results. "We need to do a biopsy now."

It took a little time but Shanara figured it out. She ran a blood test and instantly knew something was deeply wrong. From the symptoms Josie's mother had mentioned, Shanara was also able to rule out some possible diagnosis'. The yellow tinge in Josie's skin pointed toward liver problems, and Shanara was right. She did an ultrasound scan and diagnosed Josie with primary biliary cholangitis, also known as PBC, a progressive liver disease caused by a problem with her immune system. It was very likely caused by a hereditary gene Josie has that Shanara noticed from her family's medical records, triggered by prolonged malnutrition and severe dehydration, which is very commonly seen in Walden and Arcadia patients. Her weak immune system is mistakenly attacking her bile ducts, damaging her liver. A liver biopsy is certainly the best way to assess Josie's liver, which will give Shanara the best possible idea of what treatment should be followed, but Shanara knows that will be a waste of medication that they sorely need to treat her.

"Dr Griffin," Shanara begins. "A liver biopsy will only waste resources that we need to treat Josie. Giving her a biopsy will mean using essentially all of her permitted medical supplies. She hasn't gone into liver failure so we know that we've caught the PBC early, so there can't be any scarring on her liver. If we start with a blood transfusion because of her low platelet count, ursodeoxycholic acid and obeticholic acid for the PBC, she will be fine."

"Shanara, we need to the biopsy to assess the liver. We need to know if there is any injury or damage to the bile ducks, so we know how much treatment she needs."

"I know that," Shanara reasons with Dr Griffin, growing frustrated. "But if we begin her treatment now, we won't have to waste the medicine on a surgery. We can treat her symptoms without exceeding the legal limit and it will still give her a very good chance at a full recovery. If we do the biopsy, there won't be enough medicine for her to have a chance of survival."

Dr Griffin pauses for a moment and sighs. At the end of the day, she is the Chief of Medicine and the decision is entirely down to her. Shanara can only hope that Dr Griffin values her opinion as a doctor and co-worker, and not as the daughter of her best friend.

"We have to do the biopsy," Dr Griffin takes Shanara's arm. "It's the only way we can be certain of the extent of Josie's condition, and it's procedure, we have to follow it."

Shanara's world is slowly falling apart. She has been put in this type of position before, but it is different now. Josie is barely 5 years old, and she's slowly dying. If she was born in Phoenix, she probably would never have fallen sick. It isn't fair. She has her whole life ahead of her, but it's being cut short. Shanara understands that she's only been practicing medicine for just under 4 years, nowhere near as long as Dr Griffin, but she knows in her heart that her recommended form of treatment will give Josie the best possible chance of survival.

"Abby, please," Shanara begs. "Josie is only 5 years old and she already has a detreating immune system. The chances of her recovering from that surgery are already very low, coupled with the lack of medication she'll receive because you've used it for the biopsy will barely give her a chance to live. If we follow my recommended form of treatment, Josie will have every opportunity of survival. She will have her whole life ahead of her. Mrs Dunning has no one else left but her daughter, we can't take that away from her."

Shanara can see the pain in Dr Griffin's eyes, but she knows deep down that nothing she can say will change her superior's mind.

"What if your recommended treatment doesn't work? We'll still have to do the biopsy, with even less medication to operate with. Her chances of survival then are none. Either way, her death will be on our hands. This is what we do, Shanara. We're doctors, we have to make hard decisions. Josie still has some chance of survival if we follow procedure and do the biopsy."

"Doing the biopsy and giving her however much allotted medication she'll have left will only prolong her life, not save it. You _know_ that, I know you do. " Shanara wants to scream. Procedure is bullshit. The Exodus Charter is bullshit. It's condemning a 5 year old girl to death.

"Shanara," Dr Griffin says finally. "We're doing the biopsy."

Dr Shanara Preston didn't bother to hide her disappointment. "Fine," she almost spat. "I'll prep her for surgery."

"No," Dr Griffin stops her. "You're shift was done over two hours ago, go home."

"Josie's my patient. I should at least be doing to surgery with you-"

"She's not your patient anymore, she's mine. I'll inform her mother what's happening. Now go home."

Dr Griffin leaves Shanara then, alone and angry. She crosses her arms and shakes her head, trying to calm herself. She resists the urge to scream and fall apart, because she has to be strong. This is a downward spiral Shanara won't let herself go down. The moment she starts blaming herself for the death of her patients, that's it. There's no coming back from that. Shanara lets herself have hope, because maybe some sort of God will allow Josie to live, albeit her low chances of survival.

Shanara turns to leave, but she catches the eye of Mrs Dunning from across the medical deck. She's sitting by her daughters bed, clutching her hand. The hope that is in her eyes nearly breaks Shanara. They hold each other's gaze long enough for Mrs Dunning to realise something is badly wrong. Shanara walks away before she does something she knows she will regret.

* * *

Shanara can't eat her super that evening, her mind is too busy imagining all of Josie's possible outcomes after her surgery. She isn't confident about any of them, and it makes her feel sick. She can't do her job and that makes her angry.

"Something wrong, sweetie?" Shanara's father walks through the door, having just finished his shift.

"Bad day at work," she manages to mumble back.

"Where's mum?" Lin Preston presses a kiss to his daughter's temple.

"She wasn't here when I got home," Shanara shrugs. "I think she's with Mrs Davidson."

"Do you want to talk about it, sweetie?" Lin sits opposite her.

Shanara shakes her head no, not trusting herself not to break out in tears. She's far closer with her father than she's ever been with her mother. Although both Shanara and her mother have their passion for medicine in common, there isn't much else. Shanara has her father's black hair, olive skin tone and hooded eyes. She's quite tall and physically strong like her father too, nothing like her blonde, petit mother. Although Shanara does have her mother's hazel eyes and full hips. Aside from physical features, Shanara and her father often have the same perspective. Lin Preston values justices and the fair treatment of all people on the Colony, no matter what ship they live on. His personality and attributes make him well respected by many on the Colony, and Shanara strives to be like him every day.

"If you're not too tired, can we practice now?" Shanara asks her father, pushing the nutrition paste on her plate away.

Lin can tell something is bothering his daughter and he wants to help in anyway he can. If this is how, then he is happy to comply, no matter how tired he is.

They both stand from the kitchen table and head over to the living room area. They move all the furniture to the sides of the room and Shanara removes her shoes while her father retrieves the worn out sparring kit from his bedroom. Shanara comes from a fighting family. Her great great grandfather had been a famous fighter before the world became inhabitable, and the sparring kit he had brought with him onto the ship was passed down through the generations. Shanara is the only girl to be born to the Preston family. Every Preston before her had been a boy. But that didn't stop Lin Preston from teaching his daughter how to fight, like his father had taught him, and his father before him. Lin wants his daughter to be able to defend herself. He wants her to be strong, physically and mentally. He knows no other way to teach her that other than through example.

Shanara loves fighting with her father. She loves how it's created an unbreakable bond between them over the years. She loves the way it does make her feel empowered, and she likes the way it makes her feel like she's in control, even when her whole world is falling apart.

Lin manages to get his daughter into a headlock while she is distracted.

"Concede," he orders Shanara to give up.

"Never," she mumbles back, stubborn.

Shanara then elbows her father in the gut and when his grip looses around her neck, Shanara throws her head back until it connects with her father's face. He staggers back and falls to the floor, exhausted. He closes his eyes briefly before siting himself up, proud of his only child.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?"

Shanara takes a seat on their family sofa, catching her breath. She knows her father will never approve of what she's thinking, so she doesn't dare say it.

"What would you do if you are forced to choose between doing what's right and doing what someone tells you to do?" Shanara asks her father instead, her mind full of worry and indecision.

"What would happen if you did what they tell you to do?" Lin counters, trying to understand what his daughter is saying.

"Something bad."

"Then I would do the right thing."

"Thank you, Dad," Shanara smiles at her father, his words reassuring her. "I'm going to bed."

As she leaves the living room, her father takes her arm and turns her toward him. Lin looks at his daughter and see's the conflict in her eyes. He wants to know and understand what his daughter is going through, but if she wanted to tell him, he knows she would have by now. He tries very hard to hide the worry from his face.

"Don't do anything stupid, sweetie. Don't do anything you'll regret," he begs his daughter. "Please."

There is a pause before Shanara answers. "I love you, Dad."


	2. Chapter 2

Shanara regularly checks on up on Josie. Dr Griffin did the biopsy and the test results that came back proved that Shanara was right. Her recommended form of treatment would have worked perfectly since the PBC had been caught early, but now Josie is fighting for her life because she isn't getting enough medication. Her body is barely recovering and she's in a substantial amount of pain. It's only been 2 days since her surgery, but they've already reached the legal limit of the medication she's allowed to receive. If it hadn't of been wasted on the surgery, the treatment could have lasted for over a week, long enough for her immune system to get stronger meaning her bile ducks would no longer be attacked. But now, Josie is slowly dying.

No one's told Mrs Dunning what is inevitable going to happen to her daughter. Shanara wants to tell her. She wants to tell Mrs Dunning the truth, but every time she tries, she can't bring herself to do it. Shanara wants to tell her how sorry she is and that she can't do anything for Josie, but that's a lie. Shanara could save Josie's life, but that would mean breaking the law. For the last 2 days Shanara's mind has been entertaining the idea. If she does go against the Exodus Charter, that would mean Josie could live a long and happy life. Mrs Dunning wouldn't be left alone on the Colony. And even though Shanara knows that if she's caught she will die, everything in her body is screaming at her to do the right thing, and the right thing is the break the law so she can do her job and save a 5 year old's life.

"She's dying, isn't she." Shanara turns to see Mrs Dunning sitting by her daughter's bed, in the same place she's been ever since Josie was admitted to the medical deck.

Shanara looks at her, wide eyed and still. She's careful not to let her emotions get the better of her, but Mrs Dunning's broken whisper hits Shanara hard. No one has to tell her that her daughter is dying, she already knows. She can tell from her Josie's greying skin and delicate frame that her condition is worsening.

"I just want the truth," Mrs Dunning looks up at Shanara, her face hard and unwavering. "Please, Dr Preston."

"Yes," Shanara finally plucks up enough courage to do her job and tell the patient's family what's happening. "Josie's dying. We caught the PBC early, and had two options. Follow procedure and do a biopsy to find out the full extent of Josie's condition, or give her the required treatment and hope that it was enough to save her since I believed the PBC hadn't fully affected her liver. Procedure had to be followed, and the biopsy proved that her liver hadn't gone into failure and Josie's bile ducks didn't sustain too much damage. But doing the surgery meant we nearly hit the legal limit of medication allowed per person, leaving us with not enough to save her life, only to prolong it. I'm so sorry, Mrs Dunning."

"Is there nothing you can do for her?" Mrs Dunning asks Shanara.

They both know there is something that can be done, and for a moment Shanara wonders if Josie's mother is asking her to do the impossible. Shanara pauses before she answers, considering the implications of telling Mrs Dunning her plan. But Shanara knows it is far too risky to involve anyone but herself, so she lies.

"No, there is nothing that can be done for her."

* * *

Shanara has the night shift on the medical deck the next day, having swapped shifts with one of the other doctors after lying and saying she wanted to earn more credits so she can buy a new dress at the Exchange.

Inventory isn't taken until morning and there are less medical staff on shift at night, so Shanara knows if she has any chance of getting away with breaking the law and saving Josie's life, it's now or never. She waits until it's her turn to do the hourly rounds. When she sees that Dr Evans has gone for his break and the medical deck is finally clear, she starts to check on her sleeping patients. She yawns and stumbles slightly, making a show that she's tired. By the time she get's to Josie, her mother is asleep by her side. Shanara checks Josie's monitors to ensure everything is in order, and then she checks her fluids, dragging at the plastic a little too hard, making it fall from its stand, which then disconnects the IV line from Josie's wrist. Shanara gasps, waking Mrs Dunning.

"What's wrong?" Mrs Dunning asks sleepily, a little alert.

"It's nothing to worry about, Mrs Dunning. I just dropped Josie's IV fluids," Shanara says, dipping down under Josie's bed to retrieve the fallen bag of fluids. In this position, she's hidden from the cameras on the medical deck as she takes the bag of blood she hid in her lab coat and swaps it with the IV fluids. When she stands again and places the bag back on its stand, she smiles at Mrs Dunning. Her eyes dart to the bulge in Shanara's lab coat and she notices that there is now a dark protective cover on what is supposed to be a bag of fluids. Blood is most certainly not the same colour as IV fluids, so Shanara had to improvise. In the darkness of the medical deck, Shanara quickly disconnects Josie's other line, replacing it with ursodeoxycholic acid.

"Everything's fine, Mrs Dunning. You should go back to sleep."

Even in the dim light, Mrs Dunning can see Shanara's jaw tighten when she says the words, her eyes are wide and unwavering. She opens her mouth to say something but Shanara shakes her head ever so slightly before slipping away to check on her other patients. Mrs Dunning does what she's told and attempts to go back to sleep, trying to forget the fact that she just saw Dr Preston break the law for her dying daughter.

* * *

Shanara finds it hard to sleep at night, constantly ever so slightly paranoid that she'll be arrested any day now. Shanara stole medication from inventory 4 nights ago, and had planned it perfectly so both Josie and herself had every chance at survival. She took just enough to give Josie a fighting chance at life, but not enough to arouse too much suspicion.

Now it is reaching nearly two weeks since Shanara committed her crime, and nothing has come of it accept for Josie's improving health. Only when Josie's being discharged from the medical deck does Dr Griffin mention it in passing conversation, when she's looking though some documents.

"It's a miracle that Josie managed to recover isn't it, Shanara?"

Shanara doesn't let herself get distracted by the question. She continues with her task, simply glancing at Dr Griffin. "I don't know. Her chances were low I'll admit, but there was always a chance that she'd get better even with the lack of medication."

"Hmh, I suppose so."

Dr Griffin isn't stupid. She knows something happened, because even though there was a chance Josie could have gotten better, she most certainly was not. She was dying, and now she's suddenly on her way to a full recovery. Dr Griffin knows something, but she doesn't mention the topic again.

* * *

"What did you do?"

Shanara's mother corners her when she arrives home after her shift a few days later. Her eyes are wide and her face is stricken with anger, maybe even worry.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mum," Shanara pushes past her.

"Don't walk away from me," Yasmin grabs her daughter. Shanara's seen her mother angry and this isn't it. She's never laid a hand on her daughter before, she's always been somewhat distant but gentle. "Someone's noticed some medicine is missing from inventory," Shanara's heart sinks. "Abby warned me you might have done something but I didn't think you'd do something so stupid!"

"It wasn't stupid, Mum!" Shanara blurts out, unable to control her shock and anger. Yasmin pulls away and covers her mouth with her hands. "I did my job. I did what was right."

"You committed a crime, Shanara! You went against the Exodus Charter. If anyone finds out what you did," Yasmin pauses, tears well up in her eyes. "You'll die."

Shanara walks away, unable to look at her shaking mother. She slowly sits down on their family sofa, filled with dread. Shanara remembers the last two weeks, going through everything she had done. She had committed a crime yes, but she saved the life of a little girl in the process. Surely that was worth it.

"I couldn't let her die," Shanara says finally. "I knew the consequences. I'm sorry, Mum. I had to do it."

Yasmin can't bring herself to say anything. All she can do is go to her daughter and hold her. Lin Preston finds them later that night, crying together.

* * *

Shanara shares a shift with her mother the next morning.

When Lin comes running onto the medical deck, Shanara is in the process of changing a patient's IV fluids. She feels a heavy clap on her shoulder and she turns to see her father's face stricken with pain, and she notices her mother crying near by. Her father hugs her then and smooths her long hair like he'd done when she was only a child. In the distance, she is sure she can hear the familiar sound of heavy footsteps. That's how Shanara knows. She finally understands that her life is over.

With her stethoscope still around her neck and the IV bag still in her hand, she pushes her father away. She doesn't think to apologise for what she's done, nor does she feel the need to explain herself. All that is going through her head is Josie. The little girl she saved. For a fleeting moment she wonders if it was worth it, if it was worth trading in her own life to save that innocent little girl.

Shanara is 19 after all, and she knows the Colony's Exodus Charter like the back of her hand. She understands once she is arrested she'll be thrown in a sky cell and then put on trial in front of her peers. The Chancellor will sentence her to death by floatation in front of the Vice Chancellor, her parents, their friends and her own friends and colleagues. The Colony has always been efficient when it comes to death sentences, so Shanara knows she will be dead by the end of the day.

Shanara decides she can't die without some closure. She won't let herself be sentenced to death without giving herself the answer she so desperately needs to hear. Shanara then runs, forgetting her father and mother behind on the medical deck. She ignores the deafening calls of the guards that ring through the narrow halls. She ignores the horrified looks of the people she passes. She doesn't stop when she crosses the sky bridge from Phoenix to Walden, her pristine blue lab coat flowing behind her. But in her shock and rage and panic, she realises she doesn't know what she's looking for. Only when she leans her rigid frame against the wall does she let herself breathe.

She hears the sound of laughter echoing through Walden, the sound of happy children. Shanara follows it, the Guards hot on her heels. It brings her to three little children playing outside of some Walden apartments, their parents chatting idly not far from them. They run around, playing a simple game of catch. Then she trips, the little blonde she had treated on the medical deck only 3 weeks back. Mrs Dunning rushes forward urgently, scooping Josie up in her arms. She strokes her hair lovingly

Shanara shakes a little, causing the fluid in the IV bag in her hand to make a noise. She breathes heavily from running the entire length of the Colony, her stethoscope barely hanging onto her neck. That's when they notice her standing there, watching. Her audience pauses, all wondering what a doctor was doing on Walden. Josie points at Shanara, her face gleaming with joy. Shanara can't help but smile back. In that moment, she finally knows she regrets nothing. Her own life in exchange for that blonde bubble of joy, is a trade she is willing to make.

Mrs Dunning starts toward her, a welcoming smile on her face. She pauses though, suddenly stricken with fear, when she sees them approach. Shanara does not have to turn around to know life has finally caught up to her.

"Shanara Preston," a guard shouts. "You are under arrest for violating the Exodus Charter. Slowly put your hands on your head, now!"

Shanara doesn't hear her father's voice but she can hear the electric batons in the hands of the guards. They assume she had tried to run from the arrest, and it is the Colony's protocol to use force if necessary when a person resists arrest. What they don't understand is that she has no intention of resisting the arrest. All Shanara wanted was see that little girl once more before she is to die. Now that she has, Shanara is happy to comply.

She drops the IV bag that she is still clutching and slowly raises both her hands to meet the back of her head. Josie starts crying and her mother holds her closer. Shanara wants to go to them, she wants to tell them that everything is going to be okay. She wants to tell them that none of this is their fault and that she would gladly do it again if it meant that a life wouldn't be wasted. But Shanara can't do that, because if she does, Josie's mother will probably be taken away under suspicion of aiding her in violating the Exodus Charter, which is also punishable by death. Shanara isn't going to let that happen, so she stands still as the guard handcuffs her wrists behind her back.

Mrs Dunning hides her face behind her daughter, tears streaming from her eyes. She takes a small step forward, thinking that maybe there is a possibility of saving the young doctor, but Shanara shakes her head the tiniest amount, signalling for her not to do anything. Her heart breaks because she knows that Shanara will die and there is nothing she can do. So she stands there, silently crying as the young girl that saved her baby's life is being arrested. She blames herself, but as Shanara is led away by the group of guards, she smiles at the two of them in a way that makes Mrs Dunning understand that she doesn't blame them.

All Dr Shanara Preston wanted was to say goodbye

* * *

Shanara is in front of the council within 2 hours.

She sits on a bench in front of her peers, her hands bound behind her back. The Senior Council sit at a long table at the very front of the room, while everyone else is seated behind her. She is isolated from the audience, with 2 guards stationed at either side of her. She knows them both, since they are friends with her father. The room is unbearably noisy. The lights are bright and blinding, and Shanara catches herself wondering how many people have been sentenced to death over the years while sitting in the exact same place as she is now.

Chancellor Jaha is speaking, trying to quiet everyone down as he reads out Shanara's crimes. She ignores it all, almost board with this entire process. She wants it to be over and done with, once and for all.

"Shanara," one of the guards nudges her. Chancellor Jaha is speaking to her. "Do you have anything to say in your defence?"

She's made to stand then, and the room quietens. Shanara takes this opportunity to tell everyone the truth.

"I don't regret what I did," she tells the Council. "I did my job, I did what was right. I would do it again if it meant an innocent life wouldn't have to be wasted."

She hears gasps and mummers rise from those who sit behind her. The Chancellor looks disappointed. He recoils at her response and his gaze goes to the side of the room, to Shanara's parents. He then quietens everyone after briefly deliberating with his Council.

"Then you leave us no choice," Jaha says finally. "Dr Shanara Preston. For your crimes against the Colony, we sentence you to death in accordance with the Exodus Charter, in the manner prescribed by law."

The sentence hits her harder than she expected it to, but she nevertheless accepts it. As mummers begin turn into shouts for Shanara's sentence to be reduced, she's led away from the room. She glances back one last time and finds her parents holding each other. Over the noise and commotion, Shanara tells them that she loves them.

* * *

She's taken to a sky cell, the guards uncuff her wrists and lock her inside. She's left there alone, awaiting her a death.

Nothing adorns the sky cell but a single bed. Scratches cover the old grey walls, and the room is oddly chilling. Shanara wraps her blue lab coat tighter around herself, and she wonders if they will take it off her before she's floated. Time passes unbearably slowly in the cell, almost painfully. All Shanara can do is sit down or pace around, unable to keep her mind from imagining her impending doom.

After what feels like a lifetime, the door to Shanara's cell opens. Two guards step inside. She recognises the youngest guard, David.

"It's time, Shanara," he says, his eyes sad.

She sighs with a nod and turns around, letting her hands be handcuffed for the last time. Shanara's then led through a series of hallways until she's moments away from the Floatation deck and for the first time in her life, she's truly scared. Shanara wonders what it will feel like to die, and if death really is the end. Her whole life flashes before her eyes, and she thinks about the people she'll never see again and the things she'll never do. She will never see her parents again. She'll never be able to hug them and tell them that she loves them. She will never practice medicine again. She'll never see the ground. She'll never lose her virginity, or get married, or start a family. Shanara's never believed in a God, but right now, as she's led to her death, she hopes that one does exist, and that they'll have mercy on her soul.

Shanara and the guards are about to round the corner when her father appears before them, having just come from the Floatation deck.

"Dad?"

Lin doesn't look at his daughter, but he does address the two guards escorting her.

"I'll escort her from her. You two are dismissed," Lin says, his voice full of authority.

Both guards look at each other before questioning their senior officer. "Are you sure that's wise, Sir?"

"You two are dismissed. That is an order."

The two guards incline their head as they leave. Shanara's eyes threaten tears, she doesn't want her father to witness her die. She's about to object to her father's presence but Lin takes her arm and leads her away from the Floatation deck. He rushes forward, dragging his daughter with him.

"Dad, what happening?" Shanara panics.

Lin doesn't answer but continues to pull her forward and further away from the Floatation deck. He pauses along their route a few times, checking for guards. Shanara notices the dim lighting and sees that there are no people roaming the halls, meaning it must be past curfew. Her wrists sting with pain against the metal handcuffs as her father drags her along the Colony's hallways. Only when they reach what looks like the very outer edge of the Colony does Lin stop. They arrive at a very large airlock door, with a keypad at its side. Shanara's father inputs a series of numbers and the door opens for the both of them. Lin continues to lead his daughter forward onto some sort of deck, suspended in the air and attached to another door. It's noisy and dark and nightmare looking. Shanara notices a small timer counting down, its numbers a bright red above the door at the end of the deck. Before Lin has a chance to move them forward, a loud voice booms through the entire place. Guards are being called and she can hear people scream.

Shanara's father pulls them both forward and through the door at the end. Before she can register what's happening, a large ship looms over her, and her father pushes her into its entrance.

"What the hell is this?"

Shanara's words are nothing but a whisper as she stares at the sight before her. Rows of chairs are filled with people, more specifically, children. They very in age but none of them seem older than Shanara. They look up at her and her father from where they are strapped into their seats, their faces laced with worry and panic.

"What the fuck is going on?" Shanara shouts at no one in particular.

Her father fumbles around behind her, trying to unlock the handcuffs binding her wrists together. He quickly grows frustrated and only manages to remove one side, leaving the set of metal cuffs locked and dangling from her left wrists. Lin then pushes his daughter into the only available seat on the ship, strapping her into it.

"Dad," Shanara screams at her father. "What the fuck is happening? Why aren't I being floated?"

Lin struggles to tighten the straps around Shanara, his hands shaking too much. He's so focused on the task at hand, he doesn't even scold his daughter for swearing. "Thelonious may have sentenced you to death but I'm not letting my daughter die."

He finally slides the last strap into place and stands up, taking his daughter's hand.

"There are containers of medical supplies on this dropship. When you get down there, you do what you do best," Lin reaches for the collar of Shanara's lab coat, straightening it. "You help these kids, okay? You should know that your mother and I are so proud of what you did, Shanara. I need you to be strong now."

"What?" Tears stream from her eyes as she looks around in confusion. "What does that mean? Where are you sending us?"

"Maybe in another lifetime we'll see each again," Lin says, reaching for his daughter's face. "I love you."

A countdown echo's through the ship as the whole structure begins to shake. Before she can register what's happening, her father starts to rush away but he turns to her one last time as Shanara shouts to him, telling him that she'll always love him. He then exits the ship and stands on its deck, taking out his gun from its holster. From where she's sitting she can see half his body, but she can't make out what's happening.

Her head spins as the countdown continues. Shanara tries not to hyperventilate as she keeps her eyes trained on her father's silhouette. The constant noise grows louder as the sound of heavy footsteps approach.

"Preston, get your daughter off that ship and to the Floatation deck!"

"I won't do that, Sir," her father barks back. "If you want Shanara you're going to have to go through me."

As the countdown reaches 10, the ship's door begins to automatically close. Those around her shout and scream.

"This is your last warning, Preston. Get her off that ship!"

"No," Lin levels his gun at the guards shouting at him.

Shanara panics and begins to unbuckle herself from her seat. She's shouting at her father to stop, telling him that this mess isn't worth her meaningless life, but it's too late. By the time she manages to detangle herself from the straps holding her in place, the first gun shot had already gone off. She's frozen as she sees her father's motionless frame fall to the floor, blood pooling from his head.

"NO-," Shanara screams as she runs forward, looking at her father's dead eyes and ignoring the guards running for her. They're too late though, because the countdown reaches one and the dropship's door closes in front of her, separating Shanara from her father and the guards.

She smashes her hands against the metal door, punching it and kicking it with all her strength, but it doesn't budge. The ship suddenly lurches then, and Shanara's thrown to the floor. Her head collides with metal and her forehead splits open. She reaches for her face as blood spills onto her hands.

"Shanara."

She squints up to see a blonde girl reach for her.

"Clarke?" Shanara asks. "What are you doing hear?"

"There's no time for that now," she explains, her blue eyes searching Shanara's. "I'm so sorry about your father, but you have to get back to your seat. This ship is about the take off, and you could die if you just stay here on the floor. Please."

Shanara contemplates death. It's what she's been preparing herself for everyday since she stole that medicine. Her father is gone because of her. She's never going to see her mother again. She wonder's what life she even has left now, why shouldn't she just lay there and hope to die?

It's not what her father wanted for her. He died to put her on the dropship. He died to give her the opportunity to have a second chance at life. It takes Shanara an uneasy amount of time to realise that, but she does. So when the dropship is finally released from the Colony, Shanara is safely strapped into her seat.

"Where are we going?" Shanara realises she doesn't even know.

"Earth," the boy next to her shudders in reply. "They're sending us to the ground."


	3. Chapter 3

Shanara's head throbs violently as she stirs in her seat. Her ears ring and body aches in the aftermath of the dropship's crash landing on Earth.

As she gingerly opens her eyes, she notices that everything is shrouded in darkness, but she can feel an unfamiliar heat hit the side of her face and she can smell smoke in her nostrils. Somewhere behind her, cold air hits the back of her neck and a sliver of light shines into the metal dropship. The painful ringing dies down in her ears, but it is replaced by the screams and groans of those who crash landed on Earth with her.

Shanara cannot believe she is alive. If it not for the sharp pain going through her head, keeping her conscious, she would think this all a dream. Then the memory of her father's dead eyes flash before her and she comes to a sudden realisation that it is not a dream at all, but a nightmare.

"Hey," Shanara's head snaps to the side. "Hey, the doctor! I need-"

Her father's face fades away as she focuses on the voice calling to her. The noise is unbearable. Those who are conscious are shouting and she can feel them begin to get up from their seats and stumble around in the darkness. Some are hurt and groan in pain. Shanara can smell the familiar scent of blood, even amongst the smoke and metal. An unfamiliar whistle also echo's through the dropship, making Shanara worry.

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!"

Shanara's own voice travels through the metal prison, shocking even herself. The sound is throaty and full of authority, causing everyone on the dropship to stop in their tracks.

"Listen," Shanara begins, loud and clear. "Everyone that is not hurt, get up and carefully try and find the switch that will turn on the emergency lights. I know these ships have some sort of back up power source. Anyone that is hurt, stay where you are until I or anyone else that can help, come's to find you."

In the darkness, Shanara believes that she's spoken in vain, that no will listen to her and they will simply tell her to fuck off. But they don't. She's met with silence for a brief moment, but then everyone seems to follow her instructions.

"The power box should be over here," Shanara recognises Clarke's voice. "I think I have-"

A surge of noise rises through the ship and dotted lights attached to the remaining walls, come to life. An orange haze of light illuminates the room, and in the corner of her eye, Shanara sees who she believes to be the girl that called out for her.

In an instant, Shanara unbuckles herself from her seat and stands. A nauseating spell washes over her but she pushes forward.

Shanara dodges those around her to get to the girl. She's maybe 12 or 13 and is sprawled across the floor. Behind her is a seat with broken straps and Shanara assumes they must have snapped during the landing. She kneels down in front of the young girl, straining her eyes to see where she's injured. Tears stain her cheeks and she's panicked.

"Everything's going to be okay," Shanara says to her slowly. "Tell me where it hurts."

"My leg," she cries. "My leg, it hurts so much."

As Shanara scans the girl's legs for an injury, she notices a pool of blood under her right thigh. A jagged piece of metal is viciously impaled in the right side of her leg.

"What's your name?" Shanara asks the girl, trying to find anything she can use to put pressure on the wound.

"It's-" she cries again. "It's Charlotte."

"Charlotte. Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to have to put pressure on your leg, it's going to hurt."

Charlotte screams as Shanara uses her hands to put pressure on the open wound, careful not to touch the piece of metal. In the dark space, she finds it increasingly harder to see anything and without any medical supplies, Shanara can't help anyone. She keeps her hands firmly on Charlotte's leg and ignores the insistent call of her name as she tries to figure out what to do next. Shanara needs those medical supplies, so she imagines where is the most logical place they would have been put. She's about to call for Clarke when a thunderous rumble shakes the dropship's structure. A large door opens and the outside world comes into view.

A wall of cold wind nearly knocks her over. The unfamiliar sunlight blinds her for a moment. As Shanara adjusts to it, a picture of green grass and ageless trees develops before her. She can't help but gasp at the sight, at the exhilarating scent of fresh air and greenery. But Charlotte's painful groan pulls Shanara from her shock.

"Okay," Shanara whisper's to herself. "Let's do this. Hey!"

Shanara grabs at the nearest person. A boy with blonde hair turns around.

"Please," she looks up at him. "Can you help me carry her out of this thing?"

"Sure," he nods, glancing at the outside.

Carefully, they both work together and carry Charlotte out of the dropship, placing her on the grass.

"I need to look for the medical supplies," Shanara tells him. "Can you put pressure on Charlotte's wound while I'm gone, she's already lost a lot of blood."

"Okay," he says bending down. He takes his hands and applies pressure on her leg, making Charlotte scream in pain. The gut wrenching sound makes him flinch and causes almost everyone in ear shot to turn to them. Shanara looks around at her audience, searching for Clarke. People mill around everywhere, some laughing and touching the ground and trees, oblivious to those who are injured and still shouting for help in the dropship.

"I know you're all excited about being her," she tells them. "But some people are still stuck in that ship and they're hurt. Can you guys please help get them out of the dropship? We have to find the supplies they sent us down here with."

She doesn't wait for any reply. Shanara believes nothing she can say will change their minds if they refuse to help, and right now she doesn't have the patients to argue with anyone about what they should and shouldn't be doing. So instead, she runs into the ship and goes to the first person she sees shouting for help. A girl with a visible laceration across her cheek and pain across her abdomen. Then a boy with what looks like a broken arm. Those that did listen to Shanara are carefully taking the injured outside.

"Clarke," Shanara sighs in relief, looking across the ship to where she's helping an unconscious girl. "She okay?"

"No," she says, heavy hearted. "She's got a huge chunk of the ship impaled in her abdomen and she's loosing too much blood."

"We have to find those medical supplies," Shanara says, frantic. "We can't do anything with out them."

"Try up there," Clarke points to the dropship's second floor while trying to stop the girl she's helping from bleeding out. "They have to be up there, because they aren't down here."

In an instant, Shanara rushes to find something that leads to the upper floor. Finally, she find an unstable looking ladder. The metal is hot to the touch and is broken in some places, but Shanara climbs it anyway, fully focused on finding the medical supplies. She lifts herself off of the ladder, through the hatch and onto the ship's second floor. The first thing she notices is a gapping hole in the wall and the prominent smell of smoke. Numerous metal beams keep the structure up right, and large black boxes litter the floor. Shanara goes to the nearest one and tries to pry it open with no luck.

"I found something," she calls down the hatch. "Someone help me get them down."

Before long, all 7 metal containers are out of the dropship. Some sort of lock keeps them from opening. Shanara's on her knees, inspecting the lock when she runs out of patients. She rises to her feet and uses her boot to smash it. Others follow her lead and start smashing the container locks. After successfully destroying both locks, Shanara quickly lifts the container's lid to reveal a pile of blankets. Not what she's looking for. Others that are gathered around her snatch at the blankets. Shanara leaves the container, glancing at the other open ones. Nutrition packs. Tents. Weapons.

"What?" Sharna rushes to the singular container filled with hand guns, rifles, axes, blades, bows and arrows. She pushes past the boys and girls crowded around it, stopping those who reach for them and closes the containers lid. "No, not the weapons."

"Who do you think you are?" A boy steps up to her, looking Shanara up and down with a sort of disgust.

"Taking the nutrition packs and blankets and tents are one thing. These are guns and blades. They're dangerous, they kill people," she tells him. "And I'm guessing you don't know how to use a gun, which makes it even more dangerous."

"I know how to use a blade," he eyes her.

He's taller than her, a little built and Shanara suspects that he's not that many years younger than her, so when he steps closer to her with a rage in his eyes, it's a little intimidating. Shanara doesn't let it bother her though and she stands her ground on the subject, placing her hand on the container's lid, growing more annoyed every second. She doesn't need this, she's wasting precious time. What she does need is to find the medical supplies. What she needs is to help those that are injured, not argue with children.

"She's right," Jaha says.

Chancellor Jaha. No, not him. His son. Wells Jaha. Although they look so similar, a little too similar for Shanara's liking. They grew up around each other on Phoenix, and she knows he and Clarke are best friends, at least they were. He's a good guy, better than his father in many ways, so Shanara's glad when he approaches and shoots her a small smile.

"We need to be careful with the guns," Wells tells everyone that has gathered. Glancing at Shanara, he must see her growing frustration because he looks at her and says, "Go, I'll deal with this. Clarke found the medical supplies, she's over there."

For a moment, Shanara doesn't want to leave Wells. Although they're younger than her, there are a lot more of them compared to her. She can tell from some of their faces that they don't agree with what both Shanara and Wells are trying to argue. She can't figure out why though, but right now she doesn't want to know. All she does know is that Wells could get hurt if enough disagree with his cause. Although he is slightly taller than the other boy and far more built, it doesn't give Shanara a lot more confidence.

"Hey, Doc-" The blonde boy helping Charlotte shouts. "Get over here. This girl has passed out!"

Shanara glances at Wells and those that surround them. "Fuck," she says gritting her teeth, glancing at Wells. All she can hope is that he'll be okay. Before she runs to Charlotte, Shanara gives the growling boy a look which is equally as menacing as his.

"Is there only one container of medical supplies?" Shanara shouts to Clarke as she passes, making her way over to Charlotte.

Shanara sighs with relief when she finds Charlotte's pulse. "I have to stich up that wound now," she tells the boy, his hands still putting pressure on her leg. "She's already lost too much blood. I'm just going to go see if there's anything I can use in that medical supply container."

Shanara rushes over to the container and finds Clarke already searching through it.

"Is that all there is?" Shanara asks, horrified at what little amount of medicine they were sent down with.

"Looks like it," Clarke frowns. "We're going to have to use only what's necessary."

"I agree," Shanara looks for what she needs to stitch up Charlotte's leg. "With so many of us, we need these supplies to stretch as far as they can go. If you need any help with that girl..."

"Thalia," Clarke interjects.

"Yeah, Thalia. Just give me a shout if you need my help."

Clarke nods and mutters a thank you before running back into the ship.

* * *

"Thank you for your help..."

"I'm Eric."

"Thank you for helping me with her, Eric," Shanara says while finishing the last stitch on Charlotte's thigh. "And I'm sorry you got so much blood on you."

"It's okay," he replies, looking down at his clothes. "It will wash out, I hope."

Shanara throws him a small smile. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Eric sighs. "Thankfully I was sitting near the front of the ship, those who were sitting near the back got hit the worse."

"You should go get some nutrition packs," Shanara motions toward the containers. "Before they're all gone."

"That's a good idea. If you need a hand again, just ask."

"I will," Shanara smiles gratefully.

"Bye, Doc."

Eric walks away and joins a small group of people sitting under a tree.

As time goes on, Shanara slowly makes her way through everyone that is injured. There was one fatality, a boy that died when the dropship crash landed. He was dead when Shanara found him on the ship. Broken neck. People say his name was Harvey. There was nothing she could do for him, which makes Shanara feel a little hopeless. Luckily though, everyone else she treated will heal in time. Thalia, the girl Clarke found, also lives. Shanara helped Clarke treat her. Clarke had successfully taken out the piece of metal from her abdomen but she noticed that Thalia was still loosing too much blood and something else was wrong. She called for Shanara who figured out that the impact of the crash also ruptured her spleen. Clarke was arrested before she could finish her training on the Colony so she didn't know what to do, but luckily Shanara had done the surgery before. Shanara was hesitant to do it at first, since she didn't have the proper medicine or medical equipment, but she noticed that Thalia was someone special to Clarke, so she did what she could with what they were sent down to Earth with. It was difficult, but they took out the spleen and now Thalia is recovering in the infirmary tent - the specially designed tent found within the medical supplies. It will be a very difficult recovery journey for Thalia, but both Clarke and Shanara did everything they could to give her the best possible chance at survival.

Now, after finally treating everyone that was injured, Shanara stands by herself on the outskirts of the clearing they landed in. Everyone else is gathered outside of the dropship. Shanara had contemplated sitting with one of the small groups that are gathered around a fire someone set up, but after watching them all, she decided against it. All of the containers are pretty much empty, accept for the container of medical supplies that is sitting in the infirmary tent with Clarke and the container full of guns that Wells is safely keeping guard of. Shanara doesn't know how he did it, but he managed to convince everyone not to touch the guns, at least for now. Although he wasn't so lucky with the blades, axes and bows and arrows. They are currently scattered around their camp.

Shanara stands by herself, watching the sun, because currently she cannot stand to be around everyone else. Everything seems to annoy her. They are all stranded on this strange land, with no idea how to live, and people are wasting nutrition packs and fighting over blankets and tents. Shanara finds it unbelievable how no one is working out some sort of system to equally distribute the resources they were sent down to Earth with. In only a few hours, Shanara can guess nearly have of the nutrition packs have already been eaten, meaning they don't have enough food to survive even for a couple days anymore. The other half are being selfishly hogged by the older boys and girls that were sent down here, leaving nothing for the younger ones. Shanara thought about saying something, about stepping in and telling them that to survive on Earth, they all had to work together. But frankly, Shanara simply does not have the energy or patience to do anything about it at the moment. Arguing about the guns had frustrated her enough, and she feels like if she says anything else, she will sound unintentionally arrogant and condescending. That is not what she wants and she knows that is not how they should be treated. They have been treated like children all their lives up on the Colony, Shanara knows damn well that she has been, even as an adult. So she's determined not to become one of those people from back home on the Colony, because she knows children should never be underestimated.

People are not her strong suit. Shanara isn't a bad person, but she is usually very straightforward, which some don't consider a great attribute. She doesn't care for drama and theatrics. Shanara prefers to bypass all the bullshit. She can get along with most people, albeit with a little difficulty. She's tired, hungry and in a little shock, which is not the best time to lecture a bunch of kids on what to do. She's going to let them be for now, hoping that nothing bad comes of it.

"Hey," her thoughts are interrupted.

"Hi, Wells," she says, glancing at him. "Who's protecting the guns if you're here?"

"Felix," Wells replies. She doesn't bother asking who that is.

He slowly comes to stand next to Shanara. They both watch the sun start to set, turning the blue sky orange and red. She had seen pictures of the sky and a sunset in books while she was in school, but it isn't the same. Standing on the ground, looking up and seeing it in real life, is more beautiful than she ever could have dreamed. There is a long pause of silence before Wells speaks.

"I'm sorry, Shanara."

She can see from the corner of her eye that he's staring at her, but she doesn't look back. Shanara chooses her next few words carefully.

"For what?" She asks, her eyes never leaving the landscape. "Are you sorry about your father sentencing me to die or are you sorry about the death of my father?"

A painful moment passes. "Both," Wells strains to reply.

"Don't be," Shanara finally turns toward him, looking him square in the eyes. "Neither were your fault, Wells. Don't be sorry. Don't blame yourself."

Shanara offers him a small, sad smile as he leaves her.

Her body lets out a breath she didn't realise she was holding. Shanara's limbs become heavy after her unexpected and emotional conversation with Wells, so she decides that it is best for her to see if she can find some nutrition packs and go to sleep. As she makes her way back to the centre of the clearing, she notices the large hole ripped into the dropship's back wall. The same one she had seen earlier that day. Her gaze travels to where their ship initially landed, and she notices the long, deep dragging marks etched into the dirt and the numerous broken trees the ship must have smashed through leading up to where it finally stopped in the clearing. Shanara stops in her tracks. She found 7 container in the dropship. 1 holds weapons. 1 held tents. 2 held nutrition packs. 2 held blankets. 1 holds medication. Only 1?

"Surely there would be more than one," she mummers to herself.

With it not being totally dark out yet, Shanara decides it's worth a look. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her blue lab coat to shield them from the biting wind, she takes off in the direction of the dropship's initial landing place. After a few short minutes of walking, she notices something glint against the darkening sky.

"Yes," she runs over to the container. It's on its side and has sustained a few dents from the impact, but it is otherwise fully intact. It looks identical to the others, so there's no way of knowing what's inside, but Shanara has a feeling it might be exactly what they need.

"Shanara," she turns quickly in the direction of her name, alert. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Clarke," she replies. "I found another container. It fell out of the ship when we crash landed. Come over here, let's open it."

Clarke runs over and Shanara's excited at the prospect of having more much needed medical supplies. She smashes at its detailed lock with her boot, quickly opening it's lid. Shanara's smile quickly fades from her face.

Her fingertips gently graze the familiar diaphragm of her stethoscope as she looks down at her initials lightly engraved on to its left binaural. She turns away from it, tears in her eyes. She could recognise it anywhere. It was a gift given to her by her father and mother the day she became a qualified doctor. It is her most treasured item, at least it was until it was taken from her by the guards before she was sentenced to death. Shanara thought she would never see it again, yet here it is. Some part of her hopes that one day she might see her mother again, but Shanara knows that is not the case for her father, because he's dead. Lin Preston is dead. He died. He's gone, and nothing will ever stop Shanara from blaming herself for her father's death.

In the increasing darkness, Shanara's whole world comes tumbling down. There are no distractions she can hide behind anymore, so she lets it all out. She lets herself cry. Shanara lets herself truly mourn, for the first time, the death of her beloved father.

After a moment alone with her sobs, Clarke envelops her in a hug. She lets Shanara cry onto her shoulder, holding her closer as her sobs grow louder.

"I'm so sorry, Shanara," Clarke whispers to her friend, remembering the death of her own father. "I'm so sorry."

A little while later, Shanara has stopped crying and the day has disappeared, replaced with the night sky.

"Come on," Clarke squeezes Shanara's arm. "It's dark, we should get back while we can still see the way to the dropship."

Shanara nods in reply. She stares at her stethoscope atop the medical supplies for a moment, before taking it and placing it in the pocket of her lab coat. She closes the container's lid and grabs its left handle while Clarke takes the other. Just before they lift it, Shanara hears a soft crack behind her. She whips round, peering into the darkness. She takes a tentative step toward the sound, seeing nothing but the dark silhouette of trees.

"What is it?" Clarke asks.

"I don't know," she replies. "I though I heard something."

"It was probably us stepping on something, or them up by the dropship."

"Yeah," Shanara continues searching through the darkness. "Maybe."

Unable to find anything in the pitch black, Shanara makes her way back to Clarke. As they walk back to the dropship with the container in hand, Shanara continues to glance over her shoulder as the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, the sensation of being watched overwhelming her.


	4. Chapter 4

Shanara is both mentally and physically exhausted. She fell asleep in the dropship straight after returning to the clearing with the medical supplies. Clarke wakes her up in the morning saying the cut on Shanara's head needs to be cleaned and stitched up. In the aftermath of the crash landing yesterday, Shanara had totally forgotten about her injuries. After stitching up her forehead and cleaning her cuts, Clarke tells Shanara that someone found a river not far from their camp.

Shanara checks up on the kids she had helped the previous day. None of their wounds have become infected, so Shanara is satisfied. Clarke ensures Thalia is stable before they both walk through the dense forest together toward the river.

"We landed in the entire wrong area, it's why they sent us down here with so little," Clarke tells Shanara. "We were supposed to land at Mount Weather, a military underground bunker. It's should be around 15 miles East of our camp, and it should have survived the nuclear war. It could have everything we need to survive. "

"But I don't understand," Shanara continues their conversation. "Why did they send us down here to begin with?"

"The Colony's oxygen filtration system has been failing for months now," Clarke starts, frowning. "The ship is dying and they can't fix it. That's why they sent 100 prisoners down to Earth to see if it was habitable, because it's their last option. I mean, we were all going to be floated when we turned 18 so it's not as if anyone will suspect that we're gone."

Shanara blinks fast, realising that what Clarke is saying makes so much sense. People from Arcadia and Walden had been flooding onto the medical deck for months suffering from acute hypoxia. Although Shanara saw it over and over again, she never even asked herself why were so many people suddenly suffering from a lack of oxygen in their tissue levels. It also dawns on Shanara that Clarke must have been confined because she knew what was happening to the Colony's oxygen supply. Her father was the Head Engineer after all. Maybe he knew too much, perhaps that is why he was sentenced to death. Shanara doesn't ask Clarke though, now doesn't seem like the right time.

"They sent 100 children down here not even knowing if the Earth was habitable," Shanara shakes her head incredulously. "What if it wasn't safe? What if the radiation levels were still dangerously high? They would of sent you down here to die. Some of these kids aren't even 13 yet."

"Technically 99 of us were taken from confinement," Clarke looks at Shanara pointedly.

"My dad must have known about it if he had time to put me on the ship and put my stethoscope in one of the containers," Shanara voices her thoughts, putting aside the raw memory of her father's dead eyes.

"He must have, I mean he was Deputy Head of the Guards. Besides, they know we're still alive down here because of these bracelets."

For the first time, Shanara notices the thick metallic bracelet latched onto Clarke's wrists. Thinking back, she realises they're all wearing one. She looks at her own wrist, the metal handcuff still locked around it, one side dangling aimlessly.

"What are they?" Shanara asks, intrigued.

"They measure our heart rate and vitals and transmit them to the Colony," Clarke glances at the gadget. She suddenly looks away then and something rages behind her eyes, but Shanara can't tell what it is.

"Are you thinking about Abby?" Shanara asks.

"I guess," Clarke answers vaguely. Shanara doesn't push it though and they walk the rest of the way to the lake in silence.

* * *

Blood is incredibly hard to wash out of clothes, and Shanara found it hard enough just washing it out of her skin.

"No one is displaying any signs of radiation poisoning yet, from the air or the water," Clarke tells Shanara as they walk back from the lake. "Although I don't think it's wise to be drinking the water without us making sure it's safe first. I found purifying tablets in one of the containers this morning so they've been using those back at camp for now, although we're going to run out soon."

"How long was I asleep for?" Shanara asks, baffled. "You've already found a river and sorted out some sort of water system by the time I woke up. Where have I been?"

Clarke snorts, "We have a long way to go. Practically all the nutrition packs are gone and we have no food. Not to mention that everyone's split up at camp, we're getting nothing done."

"Maybe we should say something," Shanara sighs, finally accepting the fact that maybe she should do something instead of leaving everyone to do their own thing. "I mean, we learnt about some of these things in school. We could build cabins and go hunting. And I know I've seen you reading books up on the Colony about berries and all sorts of things that can help us down here."

"Those books were over a hundred years old, I doubt any of the information I read is still relevant, not after the radiation," Clarke says. "Besides, I've tried saying something but no one's listening. And if they do, Graham has nearly everyone on his side. One way or another, he gets everyone to agree with _him_ and he isn't agreeing with a word _I_ say."

"Who the hell is Graham?"

"You remember that boy from yesterday? The one you fought with over the guns?" Clarke wrinkles her nose. "That's Graham."

"Great," Shanara sighs, frustrated. The though of arguing with Graham again makes her want to groan. Her body aches and frankly she feels as though she doesn't exactly have the right mental capacity to deal with anyone's shit at the moment. Shanara hates arguing, more specifically, confrontation. She doesn't know why but she's always been indifferent to it. It isn't the action itself that bothers her, she's absolutely fine with shouting and she can deal with people who are angry. It's the implication of confrontation that Shanara hates. People argue, then what? What does it achieve? Shanara knows what she believes in and it's evident from Graham's outburst yesterday that he doesn't exactly care for her ideas. She isn't afraid to argue with anyone but Shanara wonders if she has the patience for it today.

"Graham knows we're both from Phoenix, Wells too," Clarke almost spits Jaha's name. "He really doesn't like us because of it, and he's not the only one."

"We're people like the rest of them," Shanara shakes her head. "Being born of Phoenix doesn't dictate who we are."

"I don't think that matters to some of them," Clarke says truthfully.

"What was Graham's infraction?"

"Murder," Clarke says bitterly. Shanara sucks in a sharp breath.

* * *

By the time both Clarke and Shanara reach their camp, it's chaos. Empty nutrition packs and weapons are strewn all over the floor. Half the camp is huddled together in small groups with worried expressions on their faces and the other half of their camp's population is gathered around the bonfire. Even from a distance their shouts can be heard.

"What is going on?" Shanara asks a pair of boys leaning against the dropship. They both look at each other before answering.

"Graham's gathering everyone together and trading food in exchange for their bracelets," a boy with shaggy hair answers.

"What for? Why does he want the bracelets?" Clarke asks them, clearly angry and confused.

"He's burning them," the other boy answers, his black hair almost reaching his eyes.

Clarke runs toward the fire, livid. The group quietens down when she confronts Graham about burning their bracelets.

"Where did Graham get food? Aren't the nutrition packs gone?" She asks the boys, contemplating backing Clarke up. She doesn't exactly care about what anyone does with their bracelets, but Clarke must have a reason for being upset. Besides, she could get hurt if she says the wrong thing.

"A small group of them went hunting, caught a couple rabbits or something," the taller boy answers. "Some of these kids haven't eaten anything since we landed here. Using food as an initiative is a smart way to get everyone to hand over their bracelets."

Shanara notices they both still have their bracelets on. "It hasn't worked on you two though?"

"Some of us still have families up on the Colony," the other answers. "These bracelets are the only way they know we're still alive down here."

Shanara nods in reply, trying not to think of her own family. After seeing Wells join in on the commotion that is slowly rippling over their camp, Shanara sighs, wanting to check on her patients.

"I'm Shanara," she introduces herself to the two boys, realising she knows nearly no one she landed on Earth with.

"We know," the shaggy haired one answers, sharing a quick sympathetic glance with his friend. "Your the doctor. I'm Jasper."

"I'm Monty," the boy with the black hair answers.

Shanara nods, unsure of how to react to their words. Jasper looks oddly familiar to her, although she is certain she has never met him up on the Colony. Then suddenly, his voice reminds her of the one she heard on the dropship after she asked where they were going. The boy next door to her answered Earth. The boy sitting next to her was Jasper. Shanara's slightly horrified when she realises it was him, recalling the way she had desperately clawed herself out of her seat before her father was killed, the way she assaulted the dropship's door, the way she cried for her father after they launched. Jasper was right there, next to her, a witness to her madness. Suddenly Jasper and Monty's shared glances make sense.

Only when Shanara hears a shriek is she distracted from her thoughts. Across the camp, she notices a group of 6 kids, all of them much younger than her, being hounded by one of Graham's goons. Charlotte is among them, clearly scared. One moment he's talking to them, pointing at their bracelets and then indicating to the food roasting in the centre of the camp, they shake their heads no and then he's grabbing a young boy by the arm and dragging him over to the fire. The young child protests, glancing back at his friends in panic. Now it has gone too far for Shanara.

"Fuck this," she mutters, walking over to them. "Hey!"

The older boy stops in his tracks and watches Shanara approach. His grip on the young boy tightens and he lifts his chin, challenging her to say something. Shanara wants to roll her eyes, but she stops herself.

"Come on," she tries to reason with him first. "He doesn't want to take the bracelet off, let him go."

"No," he spits back.

"You can't force him to take that bracelet off," Shanara says, her frustration growing.

"I'm not," he lies, glancing at the boy in a dangerous way. "He wants it off, don't you?"

The young boy, no older than 12, cowers. It's obvious he doesn't want the contraption off of his wrist, yet he's too frightened to say it. Shanara has no idea what the significance of these bracelets are, nor does she care what they do with them, but this young boy didn't agree to have his taken off, and she is sure as shit not going to let Graham abuse his power over these children. They all have free will, Shanara's not going to let that be taken away from this young boy.

"We both know that is a lie," Shanara answers, unamused. "Get your hands off him."

"Or what?" He replies, looking her up and down.

After a moment, Shanara doesn't reply. She contemplates what to do. Does she use force or does she try and reason with him again? Shanara doesn't imagine the latter working, he's obviously hell bent on getting the bracelets off of everyone's wrist, but she doesn't want to use force where it's not needed. This boy has to be what, 17? And at the end of the day, he's only following Graham's orders. Breaking out in a fight seems unnecessary to Shanara. As she is about to reply, he smirks, happy that he's silenced the doctor and makes for the centre of the camp again with his hand still around the young boy's arm. As he's dragged away, the child glances at Shanara with fear in his eyes. He somehow reminds her of Josie.

"I said," she grabs the older boy's forearm, stopping his triumphant parade. "Leave him go."

He does leave go of the young boy's arm, but only to punch Shanara in the face. It is a decent punch, not hard enough to knock her to the ground but since the hit was so unexpected she is forced to take a step back. After all, Shanara's used to fighting. Although she would have preferred if it were in a training session and not in some dumb fight with a teenager. Shanara doesn't bother cradling her cheek, the pain is already forgotten. All she can do is turn to the boy who punched her, too shocked to be angry.

"What the fuck is your problem?" She asks, astonished.

She wants to laugh at how ridiculous this situation is, but she doesn't get the chance before he goes for another punch. This time, Shanara is prepared. Like her father taught her, she anticipates the hit. His knuckles are inches away from her face when she throws up her hand, powerfully engulfing his fist with her palm, stopping him mid punch. He's caught off guard, surprise laced on his features. His eyes go wide as he fails to extract his hand from her palm.

The shock has worn off, now Shanara's just pissed.

"You don't want to do that," she tells him dangerously, pushing his first away from her face. Shanara wants to retaliate, but she knows that it will accomplish nothing. She is better than this. She is better than him. "You have no right to force him or anyone else to take off their bracelets," she tells him. Then Shanara looks at Graham, "No one has that right."

"And what right do you have to talk to us this way?" Graham steps forward. "What, you think because you're older than all of us you can tell us what to do?"

"You don't want my help? That's fine with me," Shanara tells the group that has gathered around them. "But I am not about to let you force these kids into doing something they don't want to do."

"You're not even supposed to be here," Graham continues, pointing a knife at Shanara. He looks around at everyone like he's just revealed a massive secret. "You're supposed to be dead. Did your little friends get you out of being floated just like the way you Phoenicians get away with everything else?"

"I should have been floated but I wasn't," Shanara tells everyone what they already know. "I'm here, and I'm here to stay whether you like it or not. So get used to it."

"What was your infraction anyways? Why don't you tell us all?"

"Sure," Shanara says. "But why don't you tell me who you murdered first?"

The camp goes deathly silent. Graham has a reputation and although Shanara is entirely unaware of it, she knows that he isn't the easiest person to get along with, and quite dangerous. He has maybe half of the camps support at his back and he has a violent past. However, Shanara does not give one crap. Everyone holds their breath as they both look at each other from across the camp, unsure of what either of them are going to do next. For a moment, Graham's shocked into silence, surprised that Shanara has the balls to say such a thing. She takes her chance before he has the opportunity to burst with blind rage.

"Don't feel like sharing? Pity," she says as unsarcastically as possible.

Shanara then ushers the young boy away from Graham's goon and back to his friend. All eyes follow her as she goes, which she does not appreciate. Clarke then breaks the tension filled silence, and Shanara silently thanks her.

"Graham, you have to stop what you're doing here. We can't go on like this. Like I said this morning, we need to go to Mount Weather-" Clarke begins.

Shanara focuses her attention on the young group of kids, clearly affected by what just happened.

"What's your name?" She asks the boy who was dragged away.

"Charlie," he sniffles.

"It's going to be okay," she tells them encouragingly, Clarke and Graham still arguing in the background. "Do not do anything you don't want to do, no matter the price. If any of them bother you again, you find me. Okay?"

Slowly, they all shakes their heads.

"How's the leg, Charlotte?"

She looks up at the doctor, a little moved that Shanara remembered her name. "Yeah, it's okay. I can walk on it a little now. Thanks."

"Don't put too much pressure on it though or your stitches will burst. Remember to come to me so I can check on it," she tells her. "When was the last time you all ate?"

"We shared a nutrition pack this morning," a young blonde girl admits.

Shanara looks at them all in turn, noticing how tired they look. Not to mention hungry. They look lost and no one has been here to help them through it. Shanara curses herself for not doing anything for any of them sooner. Perhaps her practice of not getting involved with anyone's problems is not the right thing to do after all.

"Okay," she breathes. "I'm going to see if I can find something for you all to eat."

The 6 of them look excited at the prospect of eating again. It breaks Shanara's heart. She heads back to the dropship in search of some nutrition packs before they notice her torn facial expressions. Clarke had mentioned she'd managed to get her hands on some nutrition packs, so Shanara hopes she's willing to share. She passes both Clarke and Graham still arguing by the fire, everyone watching on in excitement.

After some digging, Shanara has failed to come up with anything. In the silence off the dropship, she sighs in frustration.

"Hey, Shanara."

She turns to the sound of Wells' voice. "Hey, Wells. They still going at it out there?"

"Not anymore. Clarke tried to get through to him but Graham isn't listen to any of it," he sighs, also clearly frustrated.

"Yeah," she mumbles in reply, unsure of what to do or say anymore. The whole situation feels like it's getting out of hand.

"What are you looking for?"

"Nutrition packs. Some of those young kids have barely even eaten since yesterday. I was hoping Clarke had something I could give them."

Wells reaches into his pocket and retrieves three nutrition packets. He holds them out to Shanara. "Take these."

"Are you sure?" Shanara hesitates. "Do you have any left for yourself?"

"I will be fine," he says.

After a moment, Shanara takes them. "Thank you, Wells. Really."

* * *

"I'm going to Mount Weather."

"What?" Shanara turns to Clarke. "Now?"

"Yes, now," she says. "I've already talked to some people who have agreed to go with me."

"Graham's actually ag-"

Clarke cuts Shanara off, sick and tired of hearing Graham's name. "No, he hasn't agreed to anything. But we're not going to survive down here if we don't do something. He's not planning on doing anything to help us soon, so I will."

"But why now, Clarke? At least wait until morning."

"It's still early enough for us to cover over half of the trek to Mount Weather, maybe even more," Clarke explains. "Besides, there's no point in us leaving tomorrow. We've already run out of food. The sooner we get to Mount Weather, the sooner we may get our hands on everything we need to survive down here."

Shanara puts down the antiseptic she's holding and blows out a long breath. Her gaze goes to Thalia, still unconscious but still alive.

"Can you stay here and look after Thalia?" Clarke asks. "Her and everyone else under Graham's dominion."

"They don't want my help," Shanara admits.

"That's up to them, but some of them need your help."

Shanara and Clarke share a small moment. Without saying a word, they both understand each others pain. They're exhausted. Not only physically but mentally. Their both sick of this reality, even though they've only spent a day on this strange place that used to be their ancestor's home. Earth is supposed to be their home too, but how can they call it home when they can barely survive. The constant fighting is starting to wear Clarke down. Although she's optimistic, she can't help but worry if they can survive down on Earth. Neither of them can help but wonder if this is all life will ever be.

"Okay," Shanara sighs. "When are you leaving?"

"As soon as possible," Clarke replies. "We're just grabbing whatever we can and meeting in a couple moments."

"What have you got on you so far?"

"I managed to get my hands on a blanket and some nutrition packs," Clarke says. "I'm going to use my jacket as a makeshift backpack and use a container I found on the dropship to carry water."

"You should take some medical supplies with you," Shanara suggests. "You never know what could happen. Some bandages and some antiseptic maybe."

"Yeah," Clarke agrees. "It's probably best."

A small moment of silence passes between them before Clarke looks at Shanara. "Be careful while I'm gone, please."

"You too, Clarke."

* * *

"I cut myself by accident."

"You're going to need stitches," Shanara tells the girl, inspecting the wound on her hand. "I don't have anything to numb the skin so it's going to hurt."

"It's fine," she replies, her friends gathered around them tightly. "Just tell me when you're going to do it."

"Okay, I'm going to clean the wound first."

Shanara falls silent as she gets on with her work. She cleans the long gash before preparing the needle and thread. She can feel the gaggle of girls observing every single movement she makes. It doesn't bother her much, but the whispering does. As if that isn't enough, the metal handcuffs that are still locked and dangling from Shanara's wrist, continue to infuriate her, not to mention get in the way of her work.

"You don't remember me do you, Doc," says the girl sitting in front of her.

Shanara had barely glanced at her when she asked if she could fix her hand. So many of them had cut themselves since yesterday, Shanara is almost robotic when treating the wounds they manage to inflict upon themselves with the weapons they were sent down to Earth with. She notices that the injured girl is one of the older teenagers sent down on the dropship, maybe 16 or 17 years old. Shanara looks at the group gathered around them and notices that they all look about the same age. The girl in question has short, brown hair and delicate features but striking eyes. She's on the short side and has a thin physique. She looks oddly strong though.

"I'm sorry, I..." Shanara attempts to remember where she might have met this girl.

"You were that Phoenix girl that came to the orphanage on Walden," she says, a small smirk on her face. "We were the orphans. Some of us at least."

Shanara is a little taken aback. Regrettably, it has been years since she last visited the orphanage. She had spent many hours growing up with the boys and girls in that orphanage on Walden, they were some of her happier memories of her life up on the Colony. She blinks at the girl in front of her. Surely she could remember them?

"Madeline?" Shanara remembers those striking eyes.

"Madelade," she corrects Shanara with a small smile.

Shanara looks up at some of the girl surrounding her. With the sun already staring to set she finds it somewhat difficult to really see their faces, but there is something about a few of them that triggers one of her memories.

"Lydia," Shanara recalls a girl with fiery red hair. "Elise." Another brunette with beautiful ebony skin.

Shanara does not recognise the other two girls gathered around her, although she's fairly certain she had never met them in the orphanage.

"I'm surprised you remember us at all," Lydia crosses her arms, a playful smile on her face.

Shanara shakes her head and chuckles, remembering all the hours she had spent running around Walden and Arcadia playing hide and seek with these girls. She resumes her duties and begins stitching up Madelade's wound when she says, "I'm surprised you remember me. If I recall correctly, none of you liked me very much."

"In the start, sure," Madelade confesses. "I mean, it's not everyday a girl from Phoenix just shows up at the orphanage, let alone one that wasn't even an orphan. You just waltzed in with your big old smile and fancy clothes and started talking to us. I knew it was real weird, but you didn't care."

"You just kept coming back," Elise says, and the girls laugh. Shanara joins in. "We were kind of bitches to you, even though we played together. But you still kept coming back, bringing nutrition packs and your spare clothes for all of us."

"I didn't care that you weren't always the nicest," Shanara tells them honestly, still stitching up Madelade's hand. "You were the only kids I wanted to spend time with, bitches or not."

"You used to come see us every week when we were young," Lydia recalls. "Then you stopped by the orphanage less and less as we grew up. How old was I the last time I saw you, 11? You were what, 14?"

"Yes, that sounds about right," Shanara confesses, not wanting to look at any of them. Instead she carries on with her work and finishes the stitches on Madelade's hand. "You're all done. Try and keep it clean, if it starts turning red around the edges, come back and see me."

"Remember when I tripped and fell? You were only like, 13 but you still treated my ankle and looked after me, just like now," Madelade catches Shanara's attention. She notices the doctor's strained expression and weary eyes. They all notice.

"What happened to you?" Madelade grabs Shanara's arm.

A little shocked, she answers, "I went to school. I spent all my time studying, I don't really know why I stopped going back to the orphanage."

"That's not what I mean," Madelade lets go of the doctor's arm, a little sad. "You used to be so happy when we were little. Always curious, you could never shut up or stop smiling. You've changed."

Shanara cannot tare her gaze away from Madelade, nor can she help but notice her strange expression. These are not the girls she remembers from when she was a child. Some part of her wonders if this is a dream, or some type of trick that Graham is trying to play on her now that Clarke and Wells, the only people she really knows on Earth, have left camp for Mount Weather. For a moment, Shanara's in denial. She hasn't changed, of course she hasn't. She's exactly the same as she was when she last saw these girls. Happy, carefree and optimistic. Although some part of her knows that not to be true. Why did Shanara stop visiting them in the orphanage? Madelade's words slowly dawn on Shanara, and she recalls how as they all grew up it became increasingly harder for Shanara to see her friends suffer on Walden and Arcadia. Knowing full well that there was nothing else she could do for them, she withdrew herself from the people she valued the most and focused on books and school. Why did they need her around if she was no help? It didn't occur to her that maybe they liked her, that they saw her as something more than just the crazy Phoenix girl that brought them extra food. But surely it was her father's untimely death that changed her, although she would be lying to herself if she said it was that. Shanara knows full well that she has been this way for years now, and she finally understands that it was of her own accord.

"Why are you telling me this?" Shanara steps away from them, a little scared.

"You're not as bad as you think you are, Shanara," Lydia tells her.

"We know the truth. We know who you are. Despite what Graham may say, you're not a bitch," Elise adds.

"Is that what he's saying?" Shanara wants to laugh.

They all quickly grow silent, none of them sure of what to say. Shanara's mind swims with everything that these girls have said to her and she's stunned into silence by how much they've changed. Not only physically but mentally. They are not their childish selves anymore. They're all so sincere.

"You guys have really grown up," Shanara tells them. It then suddenly dawns on her how her statement may come across as condescending, which is certainly not what she intended. Thankfully though, they understand what she means.

"Confinement forces a kid to grow up real fast," Madelade says.

"And this place forces you to grow up even faster," one of the girls she doesn't recognise adds, gesturing around her.

Shanara can't help but nod. They're right. It's unfair.

"We're so sorry about your father, Shanara," Elise says. They all nod, sympathetic.

It takes her a moment to answer, but she does. "Thank you."

"Hey, Doc-"

Shanara turns to see a boy bleeding from his arm and she sighs a little. She instantly feels guilty though, knowing full well that he needs help. She can talk with her old friends any other time she wants, but something feels different between them now. It feels odd, it's something Shanara can't describe.

"I have to get back to work," Shanara says, a little awkwardly.

"You go do your thing," Madelade smiles, her eyes filled with something Shanara can't quite place.

With that, they're all gone and Shanara is left standing in the clearing, alone and lost in thought. Before long though, she's back to work. Well into night fall, she's still stitching up kids who have clumsily cut themselves on some sort of blade and treating a few who have burned themselves by getting too close to the fire that rages in the centre of their camp. Then she's checking on Thalia. She changes the dressing on her healing incisions and giving her what little water she can take. She then checks up on two of her other patients, ones that had gotten sick that evening. One is severely dehydrated and the other seems to have low blood pressure, probably caused by a lack of food. She treats them with what little medicine they were sent down to Earth with, then Shanara takes inventory on what they have remaining. She panics a little after realising that they're quickly running out. Shanara calms herself though, knowing full well that losing her cool is not going to solve their problems. Her mind slowly starts running through possible solutions, none of which seem plausible.

The sound of her stomach rumbling tears through the air and she sighs. Glancing one last time at her three sleeping patients, she exists the infirmary tent and heads over to the dying fire. Wrapping her lab coat around herself to shield her from the wind, she notices that the clearing is empty. The tents gathered around the dropship seem full and she wonders how late it is.

As what's left of the fire flickers, she searches through the darkness, not entirely sure of what she's looking for. Then, out of nowhere, violent hands cover her mouth and arms and she's pulled deeper into the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

Shanara's screams are muffled as she's dragged away from the centre of camp, further away from the infirmary tent she wishes she had just stayed in. After incessantly panicking for a moment, her instincts kick in. Every single training session that she had ever had with her father is suddenly being pulled from her memories. She recalls all those hours and seconds she had spent sparring and fighting, always too stubborn to concede. Shanara is not one to easily give up, so she sure as shit isn't now.

In the darkness, a bright light burns close, covering Shanara with odd shadows. For a small moment, she's able to see her feet and she firmly plants them in the ground. As the hand around her mouth loosens slightly, she ducks from under her assailants grasp and punches what little flesh she can see. Those who are holding her arms grip her tighter. She shouts in frustration as she kicks out her foot, colliding with what feels like a knee. With one pair of hands gone she's left with a boy, taller than her, holding a long piece of wood with fire at its end. It doesn't take her long to realise that her attackers are boys from camp, three boys she was sent down to Earth with.

With no time to feel hurt or disappointed, she punches the boy in the face and picks up the piece of wood that burns, running back toward the centre of camp. She can hear heavy footsteps behind her and only a second after throwing the burning stick onto the dying fire, she's tackled to the ground. She's kicking at whatever she can and before long she's on her feet again.

"What the fuck is wrong with you people!" She shouts at her attackers in rage.

One by one, they rise to their feet, their figures hidden in darkness. One steps toward her, in the line of the fire and his face is illuminated by the light. It's the same boy that punched her earlier that day. This time, Shanara doesn't object to the thought of fighting him.

Knowing full well that he's coming for her, she goes to him. Strategically stepping into the darkness, she sidesteps his punch and grabs his arm, twisting it behind him until he's on one knee. Another comes for her throat, but a quick elbow to the face and a knee to the gut, and her other assailant is on the floor. Murmurs and shouts begin to unfold around her as those in the nearby tents rise after hearing a commotion outside. The three boys that attacked Shanara seem to panic as they quickly work together to try and drag her away from camp again.

"Get off of me, you fucking cowards!"

Shanara's angrier than she's ever been. All she's ever wanted to do was help people. All she's ever done while down on Earth was try to help people, and this is how she's treated? Are they trying to kill her? Her mind races with possible explanations, although none of them are good, and all of them only make Shanara's blood boil even more than it already is. She's not putting up with this shit anymore.

Head-butting the boy closest to her, she kicks another in the groin. The painful shout she hears in reply almost makes her smile. Distracted, she's pushed from behind and lands face first in the dirt. A hard boot collides with her ribs, then her face. She can feel another kick coming so before they have a chance to land it, she rolls away, closer to the fire, closer to the audience that has gathered. Shanara's on her feet as people question what is happening. She tackles the only assailant left on his feet, punching him anywhere she can. She ignores his grunts, seeing red. She stops herself though as she feels tears begin to fall down her cheeks. She's crying.

She slowly rises to her feet, her hands dangling as her side.

"What the hell have you done, Shanara?" Graham pushes through the crowed.

"Me?" She laughs in reply. "Your goons fucking attacked me, you prick."

"We don't know that," a girl by Graham's side answers, her face scrunched up in some sort of detest.

"It looks like you just attacked Adam, Murphy and Leon for no reason," another boy close by says.

Some of those gathered around seem to nod their heads in agreement, although Shanara can hear others scoff in reply. None of them say anything in Shanara's defence though. A boy retrieves some wood and throws it on the fire. As it burns brighter, she finally sees everyone for what they are. Something within her begins to break.

"Graham, you can't do this," a familiar boy says.

"Shut it, Eric," someone answers.

"You don't belong here, Phoenix," Graham says. "You're supposed to be dead, you're not one of us."

"Is that why you sent them to what, kill me?" Shanara gestures toward the three boys holding their injures.

"Your Daddy can't save you this time," Graham replies ruthlessly.

That does it.

Shanara begins to laugh hysterically, without emotion. Tears fall from her eyes as she walks around the fire toward Graham, a sadistic smile on her face. Those gathered look at each other, a little shaken by Shanara's crazed expression.

"What is your problem, Graham, huh?" She asks him. "Were you born this self righteous or did you naturally grow into it? Or did you grow bitter while you were confined. But hey, now you're free so you get to do whatever you want, right? Is it just me you don't like or do you hate everyone born on Phoenix? Oh and obviously anyone that gets in your way. Do you feel like we owe you something, is that it? Do you feel entitled to this power you think you have? Your resentment must have developed from somewhere though, kids aren't born prejudice like you. Did something happen with your friends? Family?" Graham's expression suddenly changes. "Ah, family. Do you have Daddy issues, no. Mommy issues?" Shanara pushes Graham further. "Uh oh, have a struck a nerve? Something wrong, Graham? What, you can dish it out but you can't take it in return? It isn't nice, is it, being belittled and insulted."

"Shut your mouth before I shut it for you, bitch," Graham steps forward and attempts to grab at Shanara, but she easily dodges him, walking around the fire instead.

"You should really come up with some better threats because yours are getting pretty old. They don't scare me, in fact they just piss me off," Shanara laughs again.

"You should be scared of me," Graham growls.

"Why, because you were confined for murder? My father died to put me on the dropship. If you honestly believe I'm going to let you kill me after he sacrificed his life for me, then you're going to be sorely disappointed. But go ahead, try again, I dare you."

Shanara has stopped laughing now. Her body almost shakes with anger and she can't keep it bottle up.

"You might not even have to though, give me a couple days and I'll probably be dead anyways," Shanara continues, turning around to look at everyone. "Starvation, dehydration, infection. I mean, that's where we are all headed, isn't it? There are no nutrition packs left and not nearly enough of us can hunt, so we have no food. Starvation is such a painful way to die. There aren't enough purifying tablets for the water, not that it matters since we have no water system in place anyways. It doesn't take much for someone to die from dehydration. You've clearly created some sort of hierarchy dictating who can and cannot sleep in the tents, leaving others out in the cold. The blankets are being hogged too, leaving many of us at risk of turning hypothermic. All of you are cutting yourselves on blades and axes, even playing around with the guns like fucking children. There are some medical supplies to treat you all for now but they're running out, then what? With nothing to treat your injuries, there are so many painful and infectious diseases that you can die from, especially down here."

Everyone stays silent as Shanara goes on and on, her words slowly sinking in. Their silence spurs her on, her anger still burning inside of her.

"Those people on the Colony. The people who locked us up, the people you hate, they sent you down here to die. They sent down children who they thought were _expendable_ , who they though could never survive here on Earth. Test subjects. The way we're all going, we're proving that those people are right! We can't survive, not like this. Am I wrong?" Shanara turns slowly, looking at her audience of scared kids. "Do you not like me because I treat you like children? THEN GROW THE FUCK UP!" Shanara shouts at everyone. "We're dying. We've only been here for two days but I'm already treating a 14 year old girl for starvation and another 13 year old for dehydration. You're all out of confinement but that doesn't mean you are free to do whatever you want. We all have more responsibility down here than we ever would have had on the Colony. No one's here to hold your fucking hands. No one's here to help us. If we don't help ourselves we will die."

They need to hear this, Shanara knows they need to hear this.

"You may resent me and Wells and Clarke because we were born on Phoenix, and that's fine. But you can't deny that what we suggest about working together is the only way we can all survive. Just like I can't deny that you have a strong following and that people look to you for guidance, Graham," Shanara now focuses on the one person she's ever really hated in her life. "I have no fucking idea why. I mean, I'm pretty sure you just tried to get your friends to kill me. But maybe when you're not being a complete dickhead, you are a nice guy. Or maybe you gathered all that support from threats and blind fear. Right now, I don't care. We need leaders and I'm not planning on being one any time soon. You want to lead? Fine, go for it. Although you're not any good to us until you pull your head out of your ass. I'm from Phoenix, get over it. And you should really stop abusing your power if want things around here to change, which I suspect you do. Because for some crazy reason I refuse to accept that you're a bad guy right down to your core, Graham. Somewhere deep, _deep_ down inside of you, I know you care about us surviving. I know you care about proving those people up on the Colony _wrong_. I know you want a chance at life, just like the rest of us."

Shanara's vision clears and she is no longer crying, but she does have a migraine. She blows out a long breath, her anger finally subsided. Some part of her can't believe that she's just lost it, that she's literally just shouted at everyone, but Shanara knows it was the right thing to do. They need to hear the awful truth about their situation. She's genuinely shocked with what she had bottled up inside of her. She had no idea that was what she thought until it all came flooding out of her mouth like vomit. Her mind and body aches with the thought of what has just happened over these last 10 minutes. She doesn't even try to hide the resounding disappointment she has in these kids, with herself too. In the future, maybe she can forgive their actions, they are only children after all, but for now she's still not happy.

With the sleeve of her lab coat, Shanara wipes the blood dripping from her nose. She only now notices the familiar taste of iron on her tongue. Caused by the earlier kick to the face, Shanara spits the blood on the floor. Exhausted, and tired of the eerie silence that continues to follow her outburst, she turns to leave. Passing her three assailants still holding their injuries with distain, she stops.

"Touch me again and we're going to have some real fucking problems," she warns them.

With that, she goes back to the infirmary tent and silently cries herself to sleep.

* * *

"Shanara," someone shouts from outside the infirmary tent.

"What is it?" She manages to ask, still half asleep.

She groans in pain as she rises to a sitting position, her back in agony after sleeping on the floor all night. The bright daylight seeping into the infirmary tent blinds her as she takes her knotted hair out of its braid and ties it at the top of her hair. Beads of sweat drip down her forehead as she rises to her feet. She suspects it must be a very warm day since the inside of the tent is terribly hot, which worries her. The hotter it gets, the more water everyone will need to stay hydrated. The less water her patients have, the sicker they will get.

"We need your help out here," someone answers from outside the infirmary tent, far off to the right side of their camp.

Shanara's youngest patient, a 13 year old boy, groans as he turns over and throws his blanket off of him. "Water," he manages to mumble before he closes his eyes once more.

"Okay," Shanara replies.

Carefully removing her lab coat, she takes off her long sleeve over shirt, leaving her thin t-shirt underneath. Shanara instantly feels cooler, which seems to relax her a little. Slipping her lab coat back on once more and placing her stethoscope around her neck, she opens the tent's flap and takes a step outside. The camp distinctly goes quieter, but she doesn't seem to notice because she's too stunned by what she sees.

In the centre of their camp a rabbit or two are being roasted over the fire, releasing a mouth water smell which makes Shanara's stomach rumble. On the left, a large group of older boys are wielding axes, although they are not playing around with them anymore, now they're cutting trees down, together. The trees are then being lifted and carried by groups of girls and boys off to the right side of their camp, not far from the fire, opposite the dropship. Black containers, the same ones which held supplies, are littered all over camp but now they're filled to the brim with water. A pair of younger girls walk by Shanara holding a black container, in it is water. They walk to an opening in the camp where no water filled container resides, and place it on the ground.

"Who's got the next water shift," one of girls ask aloud, tired.

"Shift?" Shanara mumbles. "What the-"

"Doc," someone shouts for her over to the right side of their camp. "Over here."

Most eyes watch her as she crosses the camp but she doesn't bother to hide her confusion over the camp's sudden organisation. Finally reaching the other side of camp, she notices that Eric is the one calling for her. He's kneeling next to a boy sitting on the floor who looks around the same age as him. Shanara notices that their hand are entwined.

"What happened?" She asks, seeing that the boy is clearly in pain.

"A tree fell on his foot," Eric says, his face stricken with worry.

Kneeling, Shanara inspects the boy's foot. With his boot and sock already removed, she conducts a short assessment, knowing the diagnosis by sight.

"Can you move your toes?" She asks.

"No," the boy replies, wincing with pain.

"Describe the pain for me, please," she carefully applies a small amount of pressure around his bruised and swollen toes.

"It's a sharp pain. My foot feels like it's on fire and it's throbbing like crazy," he answers, closing his eyes. "Not to mention so fucking painful."

"What's your name?" Shanara asks, rising to her feet.

"Felix."

"Well, Felix," Shanara frowns a little. "You have two fractured toes."

"Awesome," he blows out a breath, letting his head loll to distract himself from the pain.

"I don't have an x-ray machine here but you can tell one of the two toes is severely broken, since toes aren't supposed to bend that way," Shanara points to the toe which is bent at an angle. Eric grimaces. "Luckily though it's not a compound fracture because the bone isn't protruding through your skin, so you're not going to need surgery. I am going to have to use a split to set the bone though, I'll use a piece of wood for that."

Felix nods, "Sure, you just do whatever you can."

"I'll go get everything I need," Shanara says. "You sit tight for now."

On the way back to the infirmary tent, Shanara stops at one of the black containers now holding water. Floating inside is a small, plastic like cup. Her subconscious wonders if purifying tablets were used on the water, although she doesn't have to wonder too hard to understand the answer is probably no. Last time she checked, there were hardly any left. As Shanara looks down at the water, she asks herself if it is worth the risk, the fear of radiation poisoning still at the back of her mind. Everyone has been drinking the water anyways because none of them have a choice. There aren't enough purifying tablets and if they don't drink they'll die of dehydration, so the delinquents are screwed either way.

Shanara picks up a scoop of water, takes it back to the infirmary tent and gives some to each of her patients, then drinks some herself. The way she looks at it, if they are going to suffer from radiation poisoning because of the water or the meat being caught, they might as well go down _together._

After gathering everything she needs to treat Felix's fractured toes, she takes the scoop back to the water container, making sure to wash it with some clean water first, not wanting to spread any illnesses through bodily fluids.

Felix shouts in pain as Shanara sets his broken toes and binds them tightly with gauze.

"You can't be walking around much for these first couple of days or the fracture might move," Shanara tells Felix. "Keep your foot elevated as much possible and don't put any pressure on it. It's going to take maybe 4 to 6 weeks for it to heal."

"Thanks, Doc," Felix grunts.

"I can take you to the infirmary tent if you want," Shanara offers. "Just until the fracture is less fragile."

"No," Felix replies. "Thanks for the offer but I'd rather stay out here, under a tree of something. I hate small spaces."

"Okay. Just come see me if the pain gets any worse."

"Thank you, Doc," Eric says, running his hands through Felix's hair lovingly. Shanara can't help but smile at their interactions but the memory of her own father playing with her hair suddenly springs to her mind. The smile slowly falls from her face as she winces at her painful memory.

"Eric," she says, distracted by the constant commotion around them. "What is happening around here?"

"Graham woke us all up this morning, said everything was going to be different now. He got people going to the lake to get water and said that we're going to be building cabins. He even took all the guns in saying they should only be handled by the older kids who know how to use them," Eric explains.

Shanara is left startled at the stark contrast between today's progress and the prior days. Felix notices Shanara's confused expression, so he elaborated after a brief moment of silence. "After what happened last night, everything's changed."

"What does that mean?" Shanara asks them both, unhappy with Felix's answer.

They both look at each other as if they don't know how to answer.

"Everything was different before last night," Eric begins. "And I don't mean that in the sense that everything looks different, which it obviously does since we're building cabins now and everything, I mean everyone's mentality is different now. Ever since we landed, I've realised we've been so preoccupied with doing nothing. I mean, these last two days I've just been walking around and watching Clarke and Graham fight. None of us had even begun to think about what being on Earth actually means. At least, not until after last night."

"After you left and went back to the infirmary tent," Felix carries on, "it was so quiet for so long out here because none of us knew what to say. Even Graham didn't utter a word until this morning because I think he knew you were right. You literally put _everything_ into perspective in a matter of minutes. To tell you the truth, I hadn't even begun to contemplate the implications of the Colony sending us down here, not until yesterday. Everything you said made so much sense. Loads of people here didn't exactly take a shrine to Clarke or Wells but they really hated you, but I couldn't figure out why. You kept out of everyone's way, you were indifferent like most of us. You helped everyone who needed it. You stood up for the younger kids who couldn't defend themselves. I didn't get their hatred, not until last night. You told us the truth, in the worst possible way, which is exactly how we needed to hear. We _are_ dying. Those people up on the Colony _did_ send us down here as test subjects. It finally clicked with me that people like Graham used your Phoenix blood as an excuse to hate you because you're unapologetic when it comes to the truth."

"I don't think any of us wanted to admit to the truth of our situation because that'd mean each of us would have a ridiculous amount of responsibility. I mean, we were all in confinement before we were forced onto that dropship. As soon as we landed here we were free, at least we thought so," Eric admits. "Our entire lives food, water and a home have been provided for us but now that we're here we have to start from scratch and none of us really wanted to, it's probably why we've all been fucking around these past two days. But when everything was going to shit, we still didn't do anything. You're right, it is time for us to grow up. If we don't start working together we're going to die, and I'm not going to let those shitsticks up on the Colony get the better of me."

Shanara is lost for words. She hadn't even begun to comprehend that what she said last night would actually make an impact.

"I'm sorry it took you getting hurt for us to realise all of that," Felix says regretfully.

Shanara suddenly notices a sharp pain on her side, where she was kicked by one of her attackers the previous night. The feeling of disappointment overwhelms her again. Mixed with Felix's sincere apology, her eyes begin to water. Looking up at the delinquents milling around them doing various different tasks, Shanara notices that they have stopped what they are doing and are now looking between Eric and Felix, then at her. Their expressions very but none of them seem to look at her with distain anymore. It's all a little much for Shanara to handle at one time.

Not wanting anyone to see her cry, she backs away from them slowly and returns to the safety of the infirmary tent.

* * *

Shanara doesn't know how long she's been sitting on the infirmary tent floor, her mind raging through everything that's happened over the last couple of days. She can't help but feel like her whole life is falling apart, piece by piece. Her emotions seem to have been wrecked and now she doesn't know what to feel anymore. Shanara's life for the last few years had been somewhat mundane. She hardly had any friends she spent time with. She kept away from boys. The only real interaction she had was with her parents and her patients. She kept away from complicated emotions. Now she's in the middle of this shit show. The last time Shanara recalls feeling like this was over a year ago, when she couldn't save one of her patients. A father from Arcadia. Middle aged. Black hair. She saw a little of her father in him and she couldn't save him, just like she couldn't save her own father. Glancing at her three patients, she fears that she won't be able to save them either.

Taking her long hair out of its bun, she starts to smooth it the way she always does when she feels as though she's loosing a grip on life. The last time, it took her a long time to snap out of whatever she's feeling now. She felt so helpless and alone. She hated it. Right now, she's determined to not spiral down the same path as she had back then because she's not alone, she's surrounded by people. They may not like her and she may be wasting her time, but she's determined to help anyway she can. And Shanara knows that in one way or another, that will drag her out of the ditch she currently feels as though she's in. She's alive when she should be dead. She's not about to start wasting her second chance at life, especially now that she's on the ground.

"Fuck it," she gets up, checking one last time on her patients before exiting the infirmary tent.

Following Graham's distinct voice over to the far left of the camp, she stops in front of him. "Do you want someone to teach you lot how to use the guns properly?"

He looks her up and down, a distasteful look on his face. At least it's not a sneer. He narrows his eyes at her and Shanara crosses her arms across her chest, her lips forming a hard line. Graham opens his mouth, obviously intending on throwing some sort of insult at her, but he stops himself.

" _You_ know how to use a gun?" He asks sceptically. "I thought doctors were supposed to be against violence and all that shit."

"That's got nothing to do with this," Shanara tells him. "Didn't you say the only people who can use the guns now are the ones who know how? I know how, and I'm offering to teach those who do not."

"Who taught you?"

"My dad," she answers, blinking at the memories. "Do you want my help or not, Graham?"

"Alright then," he answers after a moment. "Show us what you've got."

Walking over and into the dropship, Graham comes out carrying a black container. Opening the lid, he spills the guns over the floor. "Have at it, Doc."

"Who do you plan on giving these guns to?" Shanara asks, kneeling down to inspect the assortment of guns they were sent down to Earth with.

Graham shouts out various names and they all come walking toward them. Shanara notices her three assailants among them.

"Uh, I don't think so," she says incredulously. "You want me to teach _them_? So they can what, shoot me once my back is turned?"

Graham looks between Shanara and his friends before answering. "Fine then, don't teach us."

Shanara shakes her head, too tired with Graham's pride and arrogance to say anything more. Instead, she reaches down and grabs her father's preferred weapon, a standard firearm for high ranking Guards on the Colony, a Beretta M9. Looking up at Graham, she strips the gun, piece by piece, never once breaking eye contact with him. She drops the pieces on the floor, rendering the gun useless. Grabbing an identical firearm from the pile, she checks the magazine before clicking off the safety. Shanara pulls back the slide and hears the familiar sound of a round entering the chamber. She then turns around, aims at a nearby tree far away from any of the kids around them and fires three shots, each of them hitting the tree to form a vertical line. Shanara waits for the few screams to die down behind her before turning to Graham, pulling back the slide so that the round in the chamber falls out of the gun and onto the floor. She holds it up and shows Graham that she clicks the safety button before throwing the gun at him. He catches it ungracefully.

"It's up to you, Graham," Shanara offers.

"What the hell do you want?" He replies

"Either they don't use the guns or I get some sort of reassurance that they're not going to try and kill me again. I mean, one against three? That's a bit fucking unfair," Shanara says, her anger bubbling up inside of her.

"They weren't going to kill you in the first place."

"Then what the hell were they going to do?" Shanara cannot believe she's actually hearing this. "Actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know. What's it going to be, Graham?"

Graham rolls his eyes but genuinely seems to think about it. Before he has the opportunity to say something though, one of her assailants answers for him. "We're not going to touch you again, that's a promise."

Shanara is very sceptical. He has deep, dark blue eyes and a prominent nose which she bruised during their fight. If she's correct, he's the one they call Murphy. Although he doesn't seem happy about having to promise to not to hurt her again, he seems sincere. Her other two attackers eventually nod, agreeing with Murphy.

"Happy?" Graham crosses his arms.

"No. These are all boys. Where are the girls?" Shanara asks to his dismay. She smiles before calling out to three familiar girls. "Madelade, Elise, Lydia!"

* * *

By late afternoon, everyone had hit the practice tree at least once. Not wanting to waste anymore ammunition than is necessary, Shanara decides to call it a day.

"I think that's enough for today!" Shanara raises her voice over the ring of bullets. "Remember, safety on and then-"

A loud shout rises from the other end of camp. Everyone turns toward the commotion, confused as to where the shout came from. After a moment of silence, another heavy groan can be heard coming closer to camp. Off in the distance, hidden by the trees, Shanara notices a few figures walking toward them with something in their arms. Suddenly, everyone's work is forgotten as they gather closer to the area where a blonde girl is running up to them.

"Clarke?" Shanara pushes through the crowd. "What's wrong-"

That's when she sees him in Wells' tired arms. Jasper, with some sort of spear impaled in his abdomen. The blade it long, dark and attached to a piece of wood that had been visibly broken off. Wells slowly sets him down on the floor before he topples over himself, sweating and panting so hard it looks painful.

"What the shit!" Graham exclaims, looking between the four who accompanied Jasper on the venture to Mount Weather. "What did you do?"

"We didn't do anything, Graham!" Monty says angrily, wringing his hands through his hair as he looks at his friend unconscious on the floor.

Shanara takes the stethoscope from her pocket and checks for a pulse. "He's still alive. What..." she searches for words as she inspects the blade wedged in his abdomen, a t-shirt wrapped around the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"We were attacked," Clarke tells everyone, looking at her hands covered in blood and then glancing back the way they came.

Voices begin to rise all around them as people begin to question what happened. Clarke kneels next to Shanara and helps her with Jasper. Someone behind them asks, "Clarke, what happened?"

"I don't know," she admits, her voice clipped. "We were nearly at Mount Weather when we came across a sign, in _English_. We though it was just some old sign that survived the nuclear war, so Jasper picked it up and kept walking. Then out of no where this spear hit him. I think..."

"Spit it out, Clarke," Graham says.

"I think," she breathes, "I think there are people who survived the Nuclear Apocalypse. I think they've been living here on the ground the entire time we've been up on the Colony."

"That can't be possible."

"That is a freaking spear!" Clarke points at the carefully crafted weapon currently in Jasper's stomach. "It didn't hit him by accident. Look at it. It is a sharpened blade that was tied onto a long wooden handle. Someone _made_ that, someone who obviously knows what they're doing. We were the only ship sent down here. Whoever attacked Jasper must have been on the ground already."

"So what are you saying, that the Earth has been habitable all this time? And now that we're here, these things? People? These... _Grounders_ are out to fucking get us?" Graham exclaims.

"Clarke, what did the sign say?" Shanara asks slowly.

Finally, Clarke meets Shanara's eyes and her expression is haunting.

" _Go home_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Apologies if any of the medical lingo is wrong. Google can only teach me so much.**

 ***Also, I've received quite a few very interesting reviews. Appreciated, unfortunately I can't understand them. If someone could translate them into English for me, I would be very grateful. Google translate isn't cutting it, sadly.**

* * *

Shanara is in a dark room. She fumbles around searching for anything she can find but she can't feel anything but cold walls closing in on her. She's bombarded with the sound of screaming and crying, only to later realise it is her begging for help. Her father's voice appears from no where. Lin Preston is shouting at his daughter. The ringing of bullets echo's through the small space. Shanara pushes against the walls that are crushing her. Her mother is shouting her name.

"Shanara!..."

"Shanara!..."

"Shanara," Clarke shakes her.

She can't breathe. Shanara jolts awake, shouting and throwing out her arms, trying to stop the cold walls from killing her. Her vision is no longer shrouded in darkness, but replaced by a bright light. She's awake. She can breathe. She's not dead.

"Are you okay?" Clarke kneels next her friend on the floor of the infirmary tent, worried.

"Yeah-" Shanara gasps. "Yes, yes. Sorry, yeah I'm fine."

She rises to her feet, her hands shaking and her ears ringing. She takes one deep breathe after another, constantly glancing around the infirmary tent, just to make sure she's really awake and not having another nightmare. Thalia is in the same place she's been since the day they landed on Earth, and Jasper is in the same place he's been since he was brought back to camp three days ago. Her two other patients are gone, having gotten better over the last couple of days. Everything is exactly as Shanara remembers it. This is real.

"They look like they're getting worse, Shanara," Clarke says, handing her a small container of water to drink.

"I didn't scream this time did I?" Shanara takes the water gladly.

"No. What was in your nightmare this time?" Clarke asks, motioning for Shanara to sit down with her. "Was it Josie again?"

"Not this time, thank goodness. I can't deal with another Josie nightmare," she sighs. "I felt like the darkness was suffocating me in this one."

"That's a new one..." Clarke trails off. "I never thought I should ask but she's always turning up in your nightmares. Who... Who is she?"

Shanara sighs. Maybe it is time to open up about it. She can't think of anyone else she'd rather talk to about Josie, especially since Clarke has been helping her with her nightmares over the last few days.

"She was a five year old girl that came into the Medical Deck up on the Colony," she begins. "Josie Dunning, from Arcadia. She had PBC."

"PBC?" Clarke asks incredulously. "A _five_ year old had primary biliary cholangitis?"

"Genetics," Shanara elaborates. "She was my patient to begin with but she was taken off my rounds."

"Why?"

"She hadn't gone into liver failure yet since I'd caught the PBC early, so I was certain that there wasn't any scarring on her liver. I wanted to treat her right away, with ursodeoxycholic acid and obeticholic acid. But," Shanara pauses, debating whether she should go on or not, "your mother didn't agree. I wasn't happy about it so she took over as Josie's doctor. She said regarding Josie's condition, procedure had to be followed and a biopsy had to be done to asses her liver's condition. You and I both know where this is going, Clarke."

Her eyes fly to the floor before she nods.

"I begged her to not do the biopsy because that would mean there wouldn't be enough medication left after it to treat Josie because of the fucking Exodus Charter," she continues. "The biopsy was done and I was right. If we had just treated her with ursodeoxycholic acid and obeticholic acid and given her a blood transfusion because of her low platelet count right after I diagnosed her, she would have been fine. Because of the biopsy, she was dying. I had to watch that five year old die, slowly and painfully. Her own mother had to watch her daughter die. I watched her everyday, growing weaker and weaker, and I couldn't do it anymore. So I took medicine from inventory and she lived. She's alive... She's alive."

"Was it my mother who reported you?" Clarke asks Shanara, her eyes ablaze.

"No," she answers, a little shocked by Clarke's sudden rage. "At least I don't think so. No one noticed for over two weeks, but then someone did and I was arrested."

"That's why you were sentenced to death," Clarke frowns.

"Yeah," she glances away, reliving the memories. "I was literally five seconds away from the Flotation Deck. I was five seconds away from death when my Dad came and took me to the dropship. It was one of the worse feelings I have ever experienced. I honestly thought I was going to die, and these fucking nightmares keep bringing up that same feeling. But I don't know, I knew what I was risking the moment I decided to break the law," Shanara shrugs. "I'd do it again if it meant another innocent life wouldn't have to be wasted."

Frustrated by her nightmares and her lack of sleep, she get's up to check on Thalia and Jasper.

"His fever hasn't broken," Clarke confirms.

"It's getting too hot in here for him," Shanara takes a cloth and wipes Jasper's brow. "We're going to have to move him out of this tent and into the dropship where it's cooler, just until his fever brakes."

"Shanara," Clarke says. "His condition is getting worse, we need to decided what to do."

"We have no idea what was on that blade, Clarke. Whatever's poisoning him is already in his blood stream. We only have one type of universal antidote and that's for venom. If we give it to him and we're wrong, he will die. I understand what you've saying, he's dying anyways so it's worth a chance but I think we should wait, just a few more days. Just until we know we have no other option. We have to give him a chance."

After a moment, Clarke nods. "Okay."

A shout suddenly rises from outside the infirmary tent. Both Clarke and Shanara glance at each other before rushing outside in a mild panic. They pause though when they discover it is not an attack but a squabble between two boys about patrol shifts.

"I did the day shift with Madelade yesterday, Leon!" a boy shouts. "Get your fat ass off the floor because we both know it's not my turn to patrol this side of camp today."

Leon, one of Shanara's remorseful attackers, gets up off the floor and tosses his gun to the side. "What did you just call me, you piece of-"

They begin to fight and Shanara wants to roll her eyes. Wells steps in to try and intervene but someone decides to hold him back, which spurs into another fist fight. Graham leans against a tree not far away, visibly annoyed but obviously also a little intrigued.

"It's like everyone's forgotten we have bigger problems than each other," Shanara shakes her head.

"Aren't you going to say something to them?" Clarke asks.

"No," she replies with a shrug.

"I know you're not a big fan of Leon because of what he did to you but we can't go on-"

"I'm going to stop you there, Clarke," she crosses her arms and turns to her shorter friend. "Yes, it's true that Leon isn't my favourite person here, but that's all water under the bridge or whatever now. I'm not going to intervene because there's no point. I said something once and it happened to do some good. If they need a wake up call then sure, I'm your girl, but that's not what these kids need right now. They're lashing out at each other because they are scared of whoever attacked Jasper. We're all scared because we don't know what's coming. They don't need me, they need you. You should stop the fighting, _not_ me."

Clarke seems to contemplate Shanara's words for a moment, but then she turns away and crosses her arms. "You should go do something. You're older plus you're better when it comes to speaking to everyone."

"Is that what this is about?" Shanara asks incredulously. "Yes, I'm older than all of you but that doesn't make me qualified to lead. And let's not pretend I have better people skills compared to you because we both know that's an outright lie. Don't think I haven't noticed you these last three days. Why is it that you've stopped standing up to Graham? I know you don't agree with some of the things he's been saying."

Clarke sighs before she answer, "They don't need someone like me."

Shanara can't understand where Clarke's self doubt comes from. But thinking about it, she's had to deal with her fair share, and Clarke was always the one to help her through it. Glancing at her friend, Shanara can see the pain all the fighting is causing her. She wants to speak up. She wants to help. She wants everyone to survive and they can't do that if they kill each other.

"I'm a good doctor and an okay surgeon, but I'm no leader," Shanara tells her. "A small group I can handle but all these kids? I'm far too indifferent and brash. We both know that. They don't need someone like me, Clarke. We're not going to survive down here without at least one better leader than Graham, and to hell if I let him become some sort of dictator."

Clarke doesn't blink. She doesn't move. She just stands there, watching everyone shouting and fighting with each other. She's better than this, Shanara knows she is. Clarke is everything they need in a leader. She's compassionate, fair, strong willed, logical. Shanara just needs to remind her of that.

Eventually Graham steps in, but to her surprise even he can't stop the catastrophe which is their camp.

"You know, before you were confined I always knew you'd make a great doctor, Clarke. Better than me, even," Shanara admits, remembering the first day Clarke became a Medical Apprentice. "I _know_ you'll make an even better leader."

Eventually, Clarke looks over to her friend and smiles. Her eyes are a little sad but Shanara nods reassuringly.

Before long, Clarke and Graham manage to quiet the camp. "I know you're all scared but we can't turn on each other," Clarke addresses the crowd

"Hey."

"Hello, Charlotte," Shanara smiles when she see's her familiar face.

She comes to stand next to the doctor, mimicking Shanara's stance. "Guess what I found today."

"Charlotte, I told you not to go exploring anymore. It's not safe," she turns to the young girl, eyebrows creased with worry.

"Actually," she grins in reply, "you said 'don't go too far outside of camp', which I didn't. Not that the ones doing the patrols would let me anyways."

"Did you tear your stitches again?"

"No," Charlotte smiles, showing Shanara her perfectly healing wound. "You haven't guessed what I found today. Come on."

Shanara turns away and continues to watch Clarke and Graham address the camp. She can't help but smile at Charlotte's sense of wonder, and their growing friendship. Charlotte has become a friendly face to her in her time of need, and Shanara has become a much needed comfort to Charlotte. They've grown closer over the last few days. They speak at least twice a day, and Shanara looks forward to their conversations. Although she doesn't yet realise it, she feels a sense of responsibility for Charlotte, and for many of the younger children at camp.

"Let's see," Shanara grins. "You've found a butterfly, a bird and a mushroom. Did you find a... I have no clue, come on, tell me already."

From behind her back, Charlotte presents a flower to her friend. Shanara's in awe for a moment. It's colours are more vibrant than anything she's ever seen, and it's petals look so delicate that it almost looks fake. Thinking back, she remembers seeing a picture of a flower in one of the books she read. It's no comparison to seeing a flower in real life.

"I picked it for you," Charlotte beams.

"Thank you," she takes it gratefully. "It's beautiful."

They stand there then in comfortable silence and watch as Clarke reassures everyone at camp of their future.

"Clarke's right you know," she turns to the young teenager. "Everything is going to be okay."

"I know," Charlotte replies, but Shanara can't ignore the worry behind her eyes as she says it.

"Do you want to help me move Jasper to the dropship?"

"Yes," Charlotte nods eagerly.

"Okay," the young doctor smiles. "Let me go grab Wells and we'll do it together."

"I'm strong," the little one almost looks hurt. "We can do it, just the two of us."

"I know," Shanara moves Charlotte's fray hairs away from eyes. "It's me that doesn't have a lot of strength. I have to ask Wells to help me."

"Okay," she beams, skipping into the infirmary tent. Shanara smiles, shaking her head.

* * *

"Go to sleep, Clarke. There's no point in us both being here and I haven't seen you sleep in days."

"I'm fine," she yawns. "Besides, I can't sleep. It's still light outside."

"Barely, and as if that will stop you sleeping," Shanara nudges Clarke. "I'll do this shift. Just come get me before dawn, I sleep better in the mornings anyways."

Clarke isn't opposed to the idea. "If anything changes with Jasper or Thalia, I'll come get you. I promise."

She finally nods, yawning again. "Okay. Thanks, Shanara."

The young doctor spends the next few hours going between the infirmary tent and the dropship, and stitching up the odd wound or two caused by the accidental slip of a blade or an axe. By nightfall, she's sitting in front of the fire and eating charred meat with some of the older teenagers that have grown accustomed to her company, with Charlotte later joining her. For a quick moment, Shanara basks in what is now her new life. Although it is hard and tiring, it's oddly freeing. Entirely different to what she though it would feel like the many times she ever imagined what life on Earth would be like. Glancing around camp at everyone's faces, watching the raging fire rise and glow in the darkness, she forgets about the threats they may face one day. Right now, Shanara's happy.

"I'd better go check on Jasper," she informs her acquaintances.

"Need help?" Charlotte pipes up.

"Not right now. Thanks for the offer though, Charlotte," Shanara smiles. "If you're sleeping in the dropship tonight, remember there's that leak on the side wall."

Charlotte shakes her head, "The second cabin was finished today. I'm sleeping there tonight."

"Okay," Shanara smooths her hair in reply, an action that feels so natural to her now. "Good night. I'll see you all in the morning."

Shanara takes the stethoscope out of her lab coat as she approaches the dropship. She sighs at the metal handcuffs that are still attached to her wrist, which are not only a bother but are becoming quite painful. She grimaces when she notices Lydia pressed up against one of the dropship's outer walls, a boy sucking on her neck.

"Come on, Lydia. Again?"

She laughs in reply. "I just did the day patrol, let me have some fun."

"Have at it," Shanara shakes her head, a small smile on her face. " _Away_ from the dropship."

"Fine," she grins, dragging the boy closer to the centre of camp with her.

"Don't do anything near the younger kids!"

Chuckling a little, she enters the dropship through it's large open door and goes straight to Jasper. She notices Monty asleep by his makeshift bed, and Shanara frowns. It's where she often finds him nowadays. She wishes she could tell Monty that his best friend is going to be okay, that he'll make a full recovery, but she can't lie to him. Even if she did, he isn't stupid, he can see that Japser is getting worse day by day.

When he was first brought back to camp over three days ago, Shanara noticed that the spear hit no internal organs, and if there were no complications, Jasper would be fine. Physically, at least. After taking the spear out, stitching up his wound and leaving him to rest, he woke. It gave everyone hope, but then everything went wrong. He started to convulse and there was nothing the young doctor could do to help. He hasn't woken since, and it's been days. Both Clarke and Shanara felt that something was wrong, but they could not figure out what. It was no accident that the spear hit Jasper in just the perfect spot. The Grounders did it on purpose. It took Shanara the better part of a day to figure it out.

At first, Shanara though the rash that had developed around Jasper's wound was due to a type of blood infection called septicaemia. But none of his other symptoms coincided with Shanara's diagnosis. When Clarke was inspecting the spear, something clicked.

"He's been poisoned," Shanara said.

"What?" Clarke didn't want to believe it, but it all made sense.

"If that spear had hit him 1cm in any other direction, higher, lower, to the left or right, Jasper would be dead. That can't be coincidence. With the convulsion, the rash, and the fever, I can't think of any other plausible diagnosis but poisoning. We never saw something like this up on the Colony but I read an old book which stated these are common symptoms of a poisoning from certain plants and animals. "

"I read that book too," Clarke said slowly, placing the spear carefully on the floor. "You're right, it's not a coincidence. When the spear first hit him, I think I saw something on the blade. It looked green, but when I got to him the blade was shrouded in Jasper's blood. I thought what I saw was a mistake."

"We have no way of knowing what was on that blade," Shanara glanced at Jasper, unsure of what to do. "Why would they do this?"

Clarke paused before answering, "I don't know, but I have a feeling we're going to find out soon."

Shanara shivered, and she shivers again thinking of Clarke's reply. Sitting next to Jasper and placing a cold cloth on his forehead, Shanara's brow furrows at the thought of what has happened to him. Thinking about it, she realises that what they did to him was a threat. A cruel one. These Grounders want the delinquents gone but they can't go back to the Colony, even if they wanted to. As the hours go by slowly, Shanara doesn't let her mind wonder about the possible consequences they might face for not adhering to the Grounder's threat. Instead, she preoccupies herself with small tasks such as changing IV bags and changing the dressing on healing wounds, along with sitting and talking to Jasper and Thalia. Although neither of them are conscious, Shanara likes to think that they'd still appreciate the company.

"Thalia woken again?"

Shanara's head whips to the side and she sighs when she sees that it is only Clarke. "No," she answers, a little sad for Clarke, "not since last time."

Thalia and Clarke were cellmates up on the Colony while they were confined. Over the months, they grew closer. Thalia knows more about Clarke than most people, and Shanara can tell Clarke misses her best friend. Luckily, her condition isn't worsening, but that is not much comfort to Clarke.

"It's not dawn already is it?" Shanara asks, a little confused.

"Not yet," Clarke sits beside her. "Couple hours."

"Then why are you here," Shanara nudges her. "I told you to get some sleep and switch with me in the morning."

"Couldn't sleep anymore," Clarke frowns. "Go. I've got this. Go sleep."

"You want to tell me about it?" Shanara can tell her friend doesn't feel right.

Clarke shakes her head in reply, her eyes downcast.

"Okay," she doesn't push her. Sensing that she needs some time alone, Shanara gets up, "I'll see you later."

Shanara doesn't wait for a reply, suddenly feeling exhausted herself. She exits the dropship, nearly tripping over herself on the ramp in the darkness. Noticing that the fire in the centre of camp is dying, she walks over and throws on a number of large logs they have stockpiled onto the embers. She wraps her lab coat tighter around herself as the biting wind makes her shiver. As she steps closer to the fire, she notices Clarke exit the dropship and go into the infirmary tent. Something within Shanara twangs at the thought of Clarke sitting by Thalia's makeshift bed.

The sound of dragging feet distracts Shanara from her thoughts. Glancing behind her, she notices one of the older teenagers standing at the edge of camp, kicking at the dirt in annoyance, his gun at his side.

"David?" Shanara asks as she approaches.

"Yeah," he sighs.

"What's wrong?"

"Murphy was supposed to take over for me ages ago," he says. "I've been patrolling since this evening. It's going to be morning in a couple hours, and I have the afternoon shift tomorrow."

Shanara glances behind her at the emptiness of the clearing. In the distance, she can see another figure patrolling the other side of camp. She is not familiar with the whole patrolling schedule since she hasn't bothered to ask Graham, so she has no idea whether David is in fact telling the truth about his shift change. Although she does recall David patrolling when she ate that evening, so she takes his word for it.

"Do you have any idea where he is?" She asks, looking at both of the newly built cabins and some of the tents.

"None," he yawns.

"Hey, you-" she raises her voice to a girl exiting one of the nearby tents. "You seen Murphy?"

She shrugs sheepishly in reply.

"Can you go find him for me, and tell him to get his ass over here? He's supposed to be patrolling."

She seems a little annoyed at first but she does what Shanara asks. Turning back to David, she notices the deep purple bags under his eyes and his weary expression.

"Go sleep," Shanara tells him. "I'll stay here until Murphy gets here."

He thinks about it for a moment but he's too tired to object. "Okay. Thanks, Doc. Want my gun?"

"Do you need to give it to Murphy?"

"No, he has one," he replies. "Everyone that does patrol shifts get their own seperate guns."

"Then no thanks," Shanara says. "You keep it."

"Oright, night."

She turns around and crosses her arms, peering into the darkness of the surrounding woods. Briefly glancing up at the beautiful night sky, she sighs as the minutes tick by. Yawning, she makes her way around half of the camp's perimeter, constantly keeping her gaze on the woods, only tearing her eyes away briefly to acknowledge the other boy patrolling the other half of camp. As she walks she hears the sound of a number of different insect calls come from inside the woods, and she smiles. She'd like to see them one day, the different species of bugs and animals. She doesn't know how long she's been standing there before she starts to get annoyed. Yawning again, she blinks up at the full moon illuminating the sky. That's when she hears a strange crack.

Whipping her head toward the sound, she takes a tentative step toward the woods. Dropping her arms to her side, she narrows her eyes and searching through the dark trees.

"Shanara."

She jumps as Murphy approaches, rubbing is eyes.

"Shut up," she says quietly, looking back at the woods. "Do you hear that?"

Pausing to listen, he shrugs and says, "I don't hear anything."

A shiver runs through her body. She can't hear anything either. Where have the insects gone?

"That's the point," she says slowly, stepping back. She begins to feel sick as fear bubbles up inside of her. "Murphy," she turns her head to him suddenly. "Wake everyo-"

Shanara gasps as she staggers back, holding her cheek. Tightly closing her eyes, she doesn't make a sound as a sharp pain runs through her face. Removing her shaking hand from her right cheek, she sees blood on her fingers. Something cut her cheek.

"What the fuck was that," she glances up at Murphy.

He's clutching his gun. With his finger on it's trigger and his face white with shock, Murphy stares intently at something off in the distance. When Shanara had taught the older teenagers to use the guns, she told them to never put their finger on the trigger unless they plan on firing the gun. Murphy has his finger on the trigger, and it worries her. Shanara follows his gaze to the dropship. As the fire in the centre of camp burns brighter, she notices that the object that cut her face is impaled in the dropship's metal outer wall.

"It's a arrow," Murphy whispers.

Time begins to move slowly as she turns toward the woods once more, her eyes wide. A sound within the silhouette of the dark trees grows louder by the second. As the realisation of their situation hits her, Shanara's head begins to hurt. She doesn't realise she's shouting.

"EVERYONE GET TO THE DROPSHIP!"

The wind is suddenly knocked out of her after something hits her with such force that she's thrown onto her back. Her whole world vanishes as she looses her sight for a moment. She can't breathe. She can move. She can't feel anything. As the ringing in her ears suddenly clears and her vision return, she's bombarded with the sound of screaming and gun shots. Shaking, her hand goes to her shoulder as it radiates a burning pain. Shanara's free hand digs into the dirt as she touches the arrow impaled in her shoulder. Lifting her head, she begins to hyperventilate as she's pulled back to reality. They are surrounded.

All around them, the dark woods begin to glow with light and within the shadows are tall monsters dressed in fur. They roar aggressively as they move forward together, toward the delinquents' camps. The front line of what Shanara can only believe to be Grounders, inch closer as she scampers backwards. Through the ferocious ring of bullets, she hears the echo of her name. Glancing behind her, a line of boys and girls have assembled, each holding a gun. From all directions, kids run for the dropship as death marches forward. The front line of Grounders fall as the bullets hit them. Arrows and spears fly at children, hitting them as they run for their lives. Shanara reals in horror.

Reaching for the arrow in her shoulder, she breaks it's shaft before finally getting to her feet. Turning her gaze once more toward the Grounders that have emerged from the trees, she notices one of them pointing at her. Not wanting to give them the satisfaction of killing her, she runs toward the voice which calls for her. She ducks as the line of shooters fire in her direction, hitting the army of Grounders behind her. Wells breaks from the firing line and runs for her, gun in hand and drags her with him as the teenager's stop shooting, turn and run to the safety of the dropship. Shanara chokes on the smell of smoke. She can hear Graham's loud voice booming through the camp as she lands on her face, screaming. Once more, another arrow lodges itself into her flesh. She's shouting at Wells to leave her as she notices the dropship's door begin to close. A boy falls beside her, a spear in his back, his eyes dead.

In some sort of blur, she's made it to the dropship and Shanara throws herself inside as the door seals itself shut.

"I want five shooters up stairs guarding the hole in the wall. I don't care who," Graham shouts. "Go, now!"

Shanara lies on the dropship floor, eyes closed, trying to control her pain. She focuses on the sound of crying, gun shots and shouting that bounces off the metal walls. She hears different names being thrown around, and she opens her eyes when she remembers the eyes of that dead boy.

"Is she dead?" Graham asks, hovering above her. Blood and dirt is smeared on his face and he holds his gun close to his chest.

"No," Wells answers, kneeling next to Shanara.

She can't ignore the pain anymore. "Mother of Christ-," she rolls onto her side, wanting to scream. "Is anyone hurt?"

"You are," Graham answers almost sarcastically, but even Shanara can't ignore the worry on his face.

"I know that, Graham," she manages to sit herself up against the dropship wall. "I'm asking if anyone else is hurt."

No one really seems to answer. Everyone shuffles around each other in the small space, sitting on what chairs are still left inside and comforting each other.

"How is Jasper?" Shanara shouts at no one in particular, hoping someone near him on the other side of the ship will give her an answer. In reply, she hears Monty's familiar voice telling her his condition hasn't changed and that he's still alive.

"I need to get these arrows the fuck out of me," Shanara breathes. "Where's Clarke?"

Wells rises to his feet and searches through the crowed of mortified teenagers. He repeatedly shouts her name to no avail. He asks everyone where she is but no one gives him an answer. Shanara looks up at Graham and they both slowly realise that she isn't on the ship. Graham then begins shouting other names. Some answer his calls, others do not. As those on the second level of the dropship fire off the odd bullet or two, tears begin to fall down Shanara's face.

"Charlotte," she finds herself whispering. "Charlotte," she says again to no avail. "Has anyone seen Charlotte? A thirteen year old girl with brown hair? Anyone?"

Shanara notices one of Charlotte's friends, Charlie, crying into his hands.

"No," her world is being ripped apart. "No, we can't leave them all out there. We can't just leave them out there."

"We have to go save them," Wells is frantic, still calling Clarke's name.

Shanara attempts to stand but fails, the arrow in her leg hindering her movement.

"I have friends out there too," Graham looks at the both of them, his eyes sad and angry. "I don't want to see anything happen to them either but if I open those doors we're all dead."

Shanara doesn't want to admit it, but she knows Graham is right. By opening the dropship's door, they'd be endangering all the lives left inside the metal contraption. She tells herself that everything is going to be okay. She tells herself that Clarke and Charlotte and everyone left on the outside are fine. However, she knows full well that everything is not okay. She can't lie to herself. She saw her people die. She saw children being murdered. Closing her eyes, Shanara begs whatever God may be listening to spare whomever they can. She wants to fall apart, but she doesn't let herself.

"I need a tourniquet," Shanara breathes, distracting herself from her thoughts. Ripping a long piece of fabric from her over shirt, she has Wells tie it tightly around her thigh, above the arrow.

"Just pull it out," she looks up at Wells.

"Are you sure?" Wells looks sceptical, his face stricken with a frenzy of emotions.

"It hasn't hit the sciatic nerve or the posterior cutaneous, seeing as I can still move my leg," she evaluates her own condition. "The arrow didn't hit me in the right place to sever my femoral artery or my deep femoral artery, thank fuck. However, there is a very good chance that the arrow has severed a lateral circumflex femoral artery. So, lets just pull this fucking thing out and see if I bleed to death."

Turning onto her side, Wells takes hold of the arrow's shaft, pulling it straight out. Shanara covers her mouth as she screams, tears sliding down her checks.

"Is blood squirting out through the wound?" She breathes through the pain.

"No, it is still bleeding though," he answers, his hands bloodied. He studies the arrow intently before placing it off to the side.

"There's hope yet then," Shanara says, her eyes tired. "Monty! Did I leave any medical supplies with Jasper?"

"Some," he comes running over with the only medical supplies that they have left in his hands.

"Any saline?"

"Yeah," he hands the almost empty bottle to Wells.

"You're going to have to stitch up the wound," she tells him. "I can't reach it myself. I'll walk you through it."

By the time he is done, there is no thread left to stitch up her other wounds but at least there is enough saline to clean them. Monty and Wells help Shanara to her feet as they begin to tackle the dreaded arrow impaled in her shoulder. She knows exactly what needs to be done but she isn't thrilled by the idea. They both help her out of her lab coat before she finally tells them that they're going to have to take the arrow out from the back and not from the front.

"But Shanara," Wells pauses. "There's no exit wound on your back."

"I know," she breathes, "you're going to have to push the arrow through my shoulder until it comes out the back. That way, it creates less damaged then if you were to pull it out from the front."

"What if these arrows are poisoned like the spear that hit Jasper?" Monty says, his mouth agape.

Shanara pauses. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. Of course, it is entirely possible which makes it even more worrying. It isn't as if Shanara hasn't been in this situation before. She thought she was going to be executed up on the Colony. She thought she was going to die when she was attacked by the three boys from camp. Now, once more, she's faced with the possibility of dying a painful death. Shanara thought she would be used to the feeling by now, but it still scares her. However, this time, she doesn't seem to care. Maybe this is the universes plan. Perhaps she really was supposed to be floated up on the Colony, and this is the world correcting it's fault. Right now, all she wants is the arrow out of her shoulder, poisoned or not.

Glancing at the kids gathered around her, she's shocked to see that some of them genuinely seem worried that she might have been poisoned. It almost makes her want to live.

"Let's cross that bridge when we get there," Shanara says as reassuringly as possible.

"Let me help you," Graham offers. She lets him.

Graham holds her waist and arms steady as Wells pushes the arrow through her shoulder, with Monty subsequently pulling it through and out from the back. Hot tears sting her eyes as she shouts in pain, eventually slumping over and sitting against the dropships wall. Wrapping her over shirt around the open wound, she attempts to stop the bleeding. Shanara's eyes flutter shut as exhaustion takes over. Sometime later, a small voice bounces off the metal walls.

"What do we do now?"

"We wait," Graham tells everyone.

Not bothering to open her eyes, Shanara adds, "We survive."


	7. Chapter 7

***Warning: graphic content in this chapter.**

* * *

"Shanara," Wells shakes her uninjured shoulder. "Wake up."

She stirs, bolting upright. She glances around the dropship as she tries to slow her breathing. Shanara's hand instinctively goes to her shoulder as the numb pain continues to make her uncomfortable. She can feel that her blood has almost soaked through the t-shirt she effectively wrapped around her shoulder to try and minimise the amount of blood pouring out the open wound.

"What's happened?" Shanara finds herself asking anyone willing to answer.

"You passed out," Wells looks down at her, his expression pained.

"How long have I been unconscious?" Shanara gets to her feet rather ungracefully.

"A long time. You stirred a couple times but you've probably been out a day," he pauses. "We're opening the door."

"What?"

Shanara's eyes fly to the front of the dropship. In the darkness, she notices Graham has his hand on the leaver which she knows opens the door. He quietly speaks to those who stand in front of him, the older boys and girls with weapons in their hands. Everyone else stands behind them, shaking and comforting each other. A strange stench fills her nostrils and she tries not to gag. The residual smoke drifting around the dropship makes her eyes sting. For once, Shanara doesn't know what to say. She knows that they can't stay in the dropship forever, but what if they open the doors and the Grounders are outside waiting?

Wells' eyes bore into hers as she opens her mouth, no words coming out. He squeezes her hand and leaves her then, joining the ranks of those gathered around Graham. She searches their faces, and her heart shatters when she sees their broken expressions.

"Stay inside the dropship until we tell you it's clear outside!" Graham shouts at everyone. His eyes find Shanara in the shrouded darkness. "If you hear bullets go off when we get out there, give us 20 seconds. If we don't make it back inside by then, close the door."

Shanara stares at him blankly.

"Understand?" Graham says sternly, his eyes wide.

"Yes," she manages to reply.

Before Shanara manages to wrap her head around everything that is happening, the dropship's door opens and the bright daylight seeps through as those who are armed inch outside tentatively. A painful moment passes before Shanara hears anything. Then a cry escapes one of the girls aboard the dropship, then a gasp, then another and another and another. Shanara pushes herself off the wall and through the thick crowed of kids. She's near the dropship's entrance when a voice echo's from the outside.

"Stay in the dropship!"

The warning came too late. By the time Graham's words reach Shanara, she's hovering in the wide doorway, blinking at the awful, retched sight before her. The wooden cabins the delinquents worked so hard on are now reduced to nothing but charred rubble. Their tents are melted plastic. A mixture of smells assaults their nostrils. The armed kids crawl over their destroyed camp, weapons up and ready, stumbling about as they look up at the trees. Shanara hears some of them gag and throw up as she's frozen in place, her eyes glued to the trees, the pain in her leg and shoulder long forgotten. The cries behind her grow louder as everyone's sight settles on the bodies of their friends, hanging from the trees.

Shanara doesn't realise she's walking forward toward the trees until Graham's telling her to get back into the dropship. Wells is grabbing her around waist, stopping her as she ignores Graham's orders. Wells tells her it's not safe to go to them, to the trees, to their friends hanging from them. In that moment, Shanara looses it. Her mind rages as she stares at the rope wrapped around their ankles and tied to thick branches that supports their dead weight. Her head spins as she glances from one side of their burning camp to the other, a single body suspended on eleven different trees. Eleven kids dead. Shanara's eyes sting with tears as she asks herself why, as she asks herself what is the point of all this, as she asks herself if life is worth living.

"Get off of me," Shanara shoves Wells away from her. "Fuck this!"

She walks forward, past the perimeter the older teenagers have created and closer to the entrance of the woods. She looks up at the trees which she once thought were beautiful, but now seem like nothing but rotten nightmares. Shanara opens her arms and spins around, crazed, tears spilling from her eyes angrily.

"COME ON THEN, YOU FUCKING COWARDS! KILL ME, SEE IF I CARE!"

Shanara doesn't wait for any reply. She doesn't wait for another arrow to hit her, finally killing her. Looking up at the trees, she walks toward the body of a young girl. Her back to Shanara and her arms limply hanging by her upside down head. Her brown hair in a familiar braid and her ripped clothes covered in dirt and blood. Shanara's breath catches in her throat as she slowly walks around to face the dead girl.

"Charlotte."

The name comes out as whisper from Shanara's lips. Without thinking, she reaches up to stroke the young girl's hair, only to pull her hand back as if she'd been burnt when Shanara realises she can't reach her. Unable to look at the thirteen year old's purple, bloodied body anymore, she covers her eyes with her hands. The whole camp watches as painful sobs escape her, the sound hitting everyones hearts, making even those who do not like Shanara, teary eyed. Mourning the loss of her friend, she drops to her knees, unable to stand any longer. One by one, the remaining kids on the dropship inch outside when it is clear there are no Grounders there to finish them all off. Those who notice their close friends dangling from the trees, approach the bodies, screaming and crying. Charlotte's own young friends walk up to Shanara, wrapping their arms around her shaking shoulders, their tears falling on her torn, dirty, bloodied lab coat.

* * *

All twelve bodies are buried by late afternoon, including Thalia, who's body was found charred under the melted material of what used to be the infirmary tent. No one found the medical supplies, or any evidence that they burned in the countless fires. Shanara doesn't care about their supplies though. She doesn't give one shit, not at the moment, not when everything is so fucked.

One hundred delinquents were sent down to Earth on the dropship. One died when they crash landed, leaving ninety-nine. Twelve fatalities mean there are now only eighty-seven of them alive, fighting for life. Shanara, Wells and Graham did the math. All of them are accounted for, all except one. There were only eighty-six standing in the clearing when Graham took the first count. A mistake he thought, but they all knew who was missing. _Clarke_. Shanara refuses to contemplate the possibility of Clarke's death when so many are assuming she's gone for good. They've been looking everywhere, but she's nowhere to be found. That doesn't mean she's dead, not to Shanara. She still has hope, it's the only thing keeping her sane.

Starving and exhausted, Shanara returns to the dropship to check up on Jasper. His condition continues to worsen but he still has a heartbeat, so Shanara will not give up on him. Using her stethoscope to check his breathing once more, she places it back in her pocket and leans against his makeshift bed. Monty is asleep on the floor next to him and Shanara can't help but yawn when she looks at his sleeping form. Sitting in one of the loose chairs next to Jasper, she lays her head down on the bottom of his bed, the pain in her leg and shoulder making her sleep uncomfortable.

She wakes a few hours later, the sun almost gone, replaced by a darkening sky. Her shoulder is excruciating and her whole body is stiff. Glancing around the metal ship, she notices many asleep on the floor. Wanting to check Jasper's heart and lungs again, Shanara reaches into the pocket of her lab coat. She feels the familiar metal of her stethoscope, but pulls out a loose piece of fabric. Unfolding the small piece of cream coloured material, Shanara realises that there are words written on it. Walking over to the entrance of the dropship to get better lighting, she clenches her jaw as she reads the note written in some sort of black ash.

 _Where we found container. Find me. Tell no one. Trust me. - Clarke_

Shoving the material back in her pocket, Shanara exits the dropship in a hurry. Looking around camp, she notices quite a few gathered around the fire in the centre of camp. She also counts five guarding the perimeter of the clearing, guns in hand. Using the darkness to her advantage, she edges her way around the back of the dropship. Leaning up against its furthest outer wall, she waits until the boy closest to her turns his gaze in the opposite direction. Taking her opportunity, Shanara rushes through the trees best she can with the wound on her leg. Hearing a raised voice from the camp, she hides behind a thick tree and catches her breath. Waiting until it dies down, Shanara stubbles around in the darkness hoping that she's heading in the direction of the sight where Clarke and her had found the container of medical supplies their first night on Earth.

Shanara stops walking after a few minutes. She spins, trying to see anything familiar. All she can see is darkness and the silhouette of trees. She closes her eyes and actually thinks for a second. She rushed out of camp so quickly she didn't even allow herself time to think. If she had, she might not have even entered these woods. How did the note get into her pocket in the first place? What if it isn't even from Clarke? The biting wind makes Shanara shiver. Opening her eyes, she contemplates turning back. Tears suddenly fall from her eyes, the realisation of their wretched situation finally hitting her. As she continues to look at the trees, her mind tricks her. She gasps and stubbles back when Shanara notices bodies hanging from the tress, staring at her. Closing her eyes, she shakes her head. Peaking at her surroundings once more, she finds nothing there but darkness.

"Fuck," the words escape her mouth as she shivers again. Not knowing what else to do, she says something, "Clarke? Are you he-"

Someone grabs Shanara from behind. A thick piece of material is tied around her mouth which silences her screams, and another piece is tied around her eyes. All Shanara can feel are rough, hard hands on her body, pushing her forward. She fights best she can but it's no use against whomever is forcing her toward a unknown destination. Her assailants seem to tire of her continuous struggle then, because instead of dragging her along with them they simply lift her up and carry her. After a short while, they all come to a stop and Shanara shouts in pain as she's thrown onto something solid and made to straddle it, the wound on her leg screaming at her as someone sits behind her, their large frame keeping her confined. Moving her feet slightly, she can no longer feel the ground and for some reason she feels as though she's floating. Before long, she's uncontrollably shifting side to side as whatever she was thrown onto starts to move.

Shanara continues to struggle against the solid hands holding her in place. The gag in her mouth almost chokes her as she cries out in pain and frustration as the wound on her shoulder bleeds through her dirty lab coat. She kicks and screams as she's lifted off of the moving vassal she was placed on. Now she's forced to limp forward as she's dragged by the cloth that binds her hands together, as if the metal handcuff still dangling off of her wrist weren't bad enough. She curses the blindfold that obstructs her view. She curses the gag that muffles her shouts. She curses the people that took her, while also blaming herself for being so stupid. She has no idea if the note really was from Clarke, but she still took off, following every word on that piece of cloth in a heartbeat. But what if it was Clarke? What would have happened had she not followed the instructions left for her? Somewhere deep down, Shanara knows she's done the right thing.

As she contemplates every decision she's ever made, her ears are assaulted with the loud noise of talking, although not in English. A continues stream of voices swirl around her, accompanied by the sound of walking and the smell of smoke. But before long, she's tripping down some steps and her gag is being removed. The hands holding her in place vanish, and then the blindfold around her eyes is gone. Shanara doesn't even bother looking around at her surroundings, all she wants is to hit the people who took her. She can feel their presence behind her, and she knows she might regret her actions but she doesn't care. With lightning fast reflexes, she turns to the closest of her two assailants and grabs him by the fur at his neck. Shanara then head-butts him rather satisfyingly before she's pulled off of him and thrown to the dirty floor.

She's overjoyed when she hears him grunt in pain, but then both of the Grounders stalk over to her as she glares at them from the floor. She's about to get to her feet when a voice calls out from the other side of the dark room.

"WAIT-" it's almost a plea. "She can't help anyone if she's hurt! Don't you want to save your Second? She's the only one that can, do you really want to risk it?"

"Clarke?" Shanara looks up from the floor. Her blonde friend looks down at her from behind a table with a young girl on it. "Are you okay?"

The two giants stop short, only a couple inches away from the bleeding doctor. They're looking almost expectantly at a young woman, maybe in her late twenties, with high cheek bones and black paint around her eyes. She looks down at Shanara in distain as she takes a step closer, her hand on a large knife at her side.

"You are the healer." Her voice is deep and full of authority. She oddly looks familiar, yet Shanara can't remember why.

"I am Dr Shanara Preston," she answers, slowly getting to her feet.

After a moment of silent contemplation, the woman looks at both her men and shakes her head. They instantly back off and Clarke comes running to her friend. She unbinds her hands and Shanara cradles her shoulder as the bleeding continues. Clarke places her hand on top of Shanara's and applies more pressure to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Come on," she takes Shanara to the girl lying unconscious on the table. She notices two containers of medicine hiding behind the table as Clarke guides her to the girl. "What happened to you?"

"I was shot with an arrow. _Twice_ ," she throws a dirty glance at the Grounders. "There wasn't enough medical supplies on the dropship to close both wounds up. I thought they all burned up in the fire with the infirmary tent. Clarke, we thought you died. What the fuck happened to you?"

"It's a long story," she peels back Shanara's lab coat and top, revealing the wound. "We don't have time right now. We have to clean and close this wound and then you have to look at that girl on the table."

"Who is she?" Shanara asks, glancing at her. She reels in horror as she realises she's only a young child, no older than twelve or thirteen.

"That woman over there is called Anya. She's the leader of these people. That girl is her Second, her name is Tris," Clarke says quickly, digging through the containers for what she's looking for. "I know you have a lot of questions but there's no time, I'll answer them later."

Shanara muffles a scream as Clarke cleans her wound and begins stitching it up. As she breathes through the pain, she looks around the damp, dark room. She notices five pairs of eyes looking at them, all weary and defensive. Now she has the opportunity to really look at them since she isn't running for her life, this time. The four men are built and tall, Anya too looks like she could take any of them on. Their gaze is intense, a little too much for Shanara right now. Under the flecks of dirt, blood and black paint they have layered on their faces, there are strong and prominent facial features. They're covered in black clothing lined with fur and an assortment of what she can only hope are animal bones, decorate their thick coats and boots. Shanara never knew what she was expecting them to look like, but for some reason she didn't think Grounders would look so human.

A broken whisper escapes Clarke as she finishes the stitches, "What happened to Thalia?"

Shanara can't meet her friend's eyes for a moment, but Clarke deserves to know. The Grounders watch their sad exchange intently. "She died, Clarke," Shanara tells her quietly. "I'm so sorry."

Clarke doesn't look at her, but continues on with her work. "Were there others?"

"Charlotte...Twelve fatalities in total," she manages to answer, but she doesn't elaborate. Shanara doesn't explain how they were found. The memory still fresh in her mind, she glares at the Grounders that surround her. Her eyes threaten tears as she relives the sight over and over in her head. Their bodies hanging from the trees. All five of the Grounders look at Shanara, their eyes unblinking. The young doctor writhes in silent anger as they continue to stand there saying nothing. Her gaze turns to hate as everything she has felt over the last couple of days, everything she held tight and kept bottled up, shatters inside her.

"Shanara?" Clarke notices her as she places the lab coat back on her shoulder.

"You _monsters_ ," Shanara spits at them. Clarke holds her back at the waist as she rushes forward. The Grounders step forward to protect their leader, pulling their swards and axes from their sheathes. Anya lifts her chin, unapologetic. The action angers Shanara tenfold. "You know what you fucking did, you piece of-"

"Shanara," Clarke shakes her.

Clarke catches her eye and she pleads with her. Shanara suddenly then notices the dark bags under the blonde's eyes, and the purple bruise on her neck. The rage boiling inside of her slowly bubbles down as her friend slowly shakes her head, her eyes tired and her frame ridged. There is no curiosity in her eyes, she doesn't ask what Shanara is obviously dishevelled over. Clarke doesn't want to know, at least not now. Shanara wonders what she's had to endure while being held captive in this hole of a place, although her injuries paint a vivid enough picture for her. Clarke could lose control just like Shanara had but she hasn't, so the least Shanara can do is hold it together for now.

After a deep breath, the young doctor calms herself and they both walk over to the girl unconscienced on the table top. Shanara notices a tube in her side and a bandage over a wound on her abdomen. Taking out the stethoscope that is, by some miracle, still in the pocket of her lab coat after her rough journey to wherever they are now, Shanara conducts a brief examination. Anya takes a step closer to the doctor as she puts the eartips in her ears and places the stethoscope's diaphragm on Tris's chest, although she slowly backs away after realising it is not a weapon. Shanara makes eye contact with Anya as she says something to the other men in the room in an alien language. Shanara listens to Tris's heart and lungs while asking Clarke the relevant questions like she did when they were on the medical deck up in the Colony.

"Walk me through it, Griffin. Patient status and your diagnosis."

"Bullet, single entrance wound between the ninth and tenth intercostal spaces. Respiratory functions were failing because of hemopneumothorax. I inserted a chest tube and vitals returned to normal until a few hours ago. Her heart rate is now around 110 per minute and her breathing is around 25 breathes per minute."

"But her lungs sound clear which would mean?" Shanara quizzes Clarke, much like she did on the Colony when the medical apprentices would shadow the doctors. Experience is the best form of teaching.

"Possible infection or organ failure," Clarke answers obediently.

"Did you attempt to take out the bullet?"

"I did," Clarke answers truthfully. "But, I couldn't... I can't... I need your help, I don't have enough experience with surgery."

"What would you advise for a course of treatment?"

"Leave the chest tube in until her lung re-expands. Open her up, take out the bullet and assess the situation. We can't leave it in there."

"Correct," Shanara answers, taking a step back. She places her stethoscope around her neck. She breathes in and out deeply, running through all the possible scenarios. No child deserves to die, but Shanara can't think of any way to save her. "But I can't operate on her, Clarke," Shanara tells her, her voice full of guilt. "There's just no way, not in these circumstances."

There is no way any doctor could contemplate opening this child up in a room such as this, without the proper medical equipment. It was hard enough to preform the surgery on Thalia, and they almost lost her several times during the procedure. But at least then they were in a tent which was somewhat sterile and they had much more medicine at the time, which is entirely different to now.

"Shanara, we have to."

"Even if we did, we both know the prognosis. Look at this place, Clarke. It isn't sterile, the bacteria alone would-" Shanara stops herself. This is Clarke Griffin, daughter of the Colony's Chief of Medicine, once a medical student herself. "You already know why we can't operate."

"You will save her," Anya says suddenly. "Or you both die."

"Look," Shanara turns to Anya angrily, entirely fed up of being threatened. "What the hell do you want me to do? This girl doesn't deserve to die but I can't help her. This room is no where near sterile enough to preform an open chest surgery or any sort of surgery, for that matter. There isn't enough medication to maybe even sedate her, let alone enough to preform a difficult surgery. We don't have the right equipment nor do I have enough medical staff to help me. I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker."

The Grounders step closer, their weapons up and a growl on their face. They obviously do not like Shanara's answer, nor her attitude toward their leader. For a brief second, Shanara prepares herself to be tortured or killed or both.

"Isn't that what my mom told you up on the Colony?"

Shanara looks at Clarke, a little shock and hurt on her face. Anya stops the Grounders from advancing when she notices Shanara's facial expression change.

"That's not fair, Clarke," Shanara says, her jaw clenched and her eyes wide. "This is not the same."

"Is it not?" Clarke replies. "You have two choices, just like you did up on the Colony. You can follow procedure and let Tris die or you can do the right thing. Up on the Colony, my mom decided to follow procedure but you did the right thing, you saved that little girl. You sacrificed your _life_ for Josie. You said yourself that you never want to see an innocent life go to waste again. Don't let that happen to Tris."

Shanara knows Clarke is right. This will haunt her forever if she does nothing. It's worth a chance.

"Fuck," she says aloud. "Clarke, help me prepare her for surgery."

In an instant, the room's atmosphere changes. The Grounders are both sceptical of the strangers from the sky and intrigued by their unfamiliar medical knowledge. Shanara and Clarke work as a team, forgetting their possible impending doom and the intimidating Grounders constantly watching them. Tearing the lid off of one of the containers, they use it to collect and arrange everything they need.

"Are there any other doctors?" Shanara asks Anya.

"Healers," Clarke corrects. "And no, he's dead."

"What about someone with some sort of medical experience?" Shanara asks. "Anyone who maybe has some heeling experience or someone that cares for the sick? I need more than one person to help me with this surgery."

After a moment, Anya turns to one of her men and says something to him in their language. Shanara finds that somewhat hopeful so she continues preparing the girl. As Clarke disinfects the only surgical tools they were sent down to Earth with, Shanara conducts a more thorough examination of Tris. She notices small patches of discoloured skin around the incision on her side. The abnormal breathing pattern. Her quick heartrate. The beads of sweat falling from her skin yet she's cold to the touch. She takes in their surroundings and closes her eyes, cursing the damp, dark, bacteria infested area.

"Clarke," Shanara turns to her slowly, the realisation of Tris's condition hitting her like a slap in the face. "She's septic."

Clarke pauses, a scalpel and gauze in her hands. They both understand the prognosis of septicaemia and they both know that they have to work quickly and effectively, otherwise Tris will die. Running over to both containers of medical supplies, Shanara searches fervently for what she needs to treat Tris.

"Septic?" Anya repeats the word as she steps forward, a crease between her eyebrows and a hand on her sword.

"Her blood has been poisoned," Clarke elaborates as a girl maybe around Shanara's age enters through the door holding a long piece of wood with fire at its end.

The light illuminates the room as she approaches the young doctor still crouched on the floor looking through the medical supplies. Shanara looks up at her as the girl's wide eyes search hers. She glances at the medicine in the boxes but doesn't say anything. A thick piece of material is tied around her head, keeping her light brown hair away from her eyes. Detailed drawings decorates the top of her right arm, Shanara assumes they are what she once read about in a book; tattoos. Her clothing is all black and very sparse, unlike those who continue to watch Shanara and Clarke at the other end of the room.

"It's a type of bacteria that's poisoning her. It's entered Tris's bloodstream and it's shutting her body down, organ by organ," Shanara continues to explain to Anya while she looks at the girl. "What's your name?"

After a moment, she answers, "Lexa."

"Here," Shanara places vials and syringes in her once free hand. "Can you put these on the table, please?"

With a brisk nod, Lexa does as asked. Shanara watches as the strange girl finishes her task and hands the fire off to Anya. Lexa says something to here, her head low and seemingly obedient. Anya simply answers with a nod. Shanara turns her head away then as her scepticism calms and she's reminded of the impending surgery that Tris needs to be prepped for. After another moment, Clarke and Shanara join Lexa by the table with Tris unconscious on it, all the necessary surgical equipment neatly placed together by the young doctor, sterilised as best as possible.

"Okay," Shanara sighs, closing her eyes. She forgets about what has transpired over this last week. She forgets about the pain radiating from her shoulder and her leg. She remembers everything they taught her up on the Colony. Clearing her mind, she continuously nods to herself. She can do this.

"What do we have left to disinfect out hands?" Shanara asks Clarke.

"Isopropyl alcohol," Clarke reaches for the bottle.

Shanara rolls her sleeves up as high as they go before Clarke carefully pours the alcohol over Shanara's hands and arms. Straight after, she slips her hands into a pair of surgical gloves and places one of the few surgical masks left over her mouth and nose. Shanara indicates to Lexa that she need do the same. She seems suspicious at first but soon her skin has been disinfected and she slips the gloves over her hand and a mask on her face. A moment later, Clarke too is ready, gloved and masked.

"I need some light over here," Shanara looks around at her audience.

"Torches," Anya barks.

Two Grounders grab hold of what they call a torch; lit wooden sticks that hang from the walls. As they near Shanara, the fire illuminates Tris's pale features and then her bullet wound.

"That's close enough. Thank you," Shanara tells them.

One of the Grounders places himself beside the young doctor, torch in hand, his eyes narrowed and sceptical. The other stands stoic beside Lexa, his hands wrapped around another torch which illuminates the dark room, his eyes darting from Lexa to Tris. However, Shanara is too preoccupied to notice the strange glances being thrown around the room and the strong expression on Lexa's face, hidden under he surgical mask.

When she's finally pulled herself together, Shanara looks up at her friend, Clarke, "Ready?"

Her eyes bore into Shanara's before she answers, "Yes."

"Lexa?" She asks then, to which the young girl nods in reply.

"Iodopovidone," Shanara disinfects Tris's entrance wound and its surrounding area. "Scalpel," Clarke hands her the surgical tool. Pausing to take a breath, the young doctor makes the incision in Tris's abdomen.

The Grounders shift their weight as they watch Shanara cut Anya's Second with the blade, as Clarke packs gauze around the wound to stop the profuse bleeding. Shanara has Lexa hold both sides of the incision wide open so that she can use both hands to properly do her job. As she begins to evaluate Tris's condition, the room becomes warm as the tension begins to build. These Grounders have seen plenty of blood before and they aren't thrown off by the sight of internal organs either since they're exposed to it all from such a young age, but watching a complete stranger, their supposed enemy, cut open and poke around in one of their people, and using alien vocabulary, tools and medication, both angers and intrigues them. For all they know, Shanara and Clarke could be killing Tris. For all Shanara and Clarke know, these Grounders will kill them no matter the outcome of the surgery.

"I see the bullet," Shanara informs everyone after a small while.

Clarke hands Shanara the surgical tweezers without having to even ask for them and she takes them thankfully, silently commenting on how well Clarke took her medical training up on the Colony. Carefully using the metal tools to narrowly avoid Tris's ribs and inspect the damage made by the bullet, Shanara notices how it is tightly lodged close to the spleen and dangerously close to the aorta, but it doesn't seem as though it has impacted either. Her only option is to pull it out, which she does, dropping the metal round in Clarke's gloved hand. The Grounders stare at the small, strange object that caused so much damage to one of their own.

"Oh, fuck-"

All their attention snaps back to Shanara as the loud, frantic words escape her mouth. Within seconds, Clarke and herself are packing gauze into Tris's open abdomen to try and control the profuse bleeding.

"What have you done?" Anya accuses the young doctor. They all crowd around the makeshift surgical table within seconds and Shanara tries not to lose it then and there.

"Back off! I need this space."

Slowly but surely, Anya and the other idle Grounders make their way back to where they were originally standing, their hands now on their weapons. Shanara isn't entirely sure what made them adhere to her words, maybe it was her tone of voice or her wild but determined facial expression, either way, she's silently thankful.

"I need more light," Shanara says then, still packing what gauze they have left into Tris's open incision. Bending down into a strange angle, Shanara peels back what bloody gauze she can in attempt to see what exactly is making Tris bleed profusely. Knowing that this quick blood loss is slowly killing this young child, Shanara prays that she's able to find a solution.

"The bullet tore the spleen," Shanara exclaims as soon as she notices the life threatening problem.

"You can take it out," Clarke suggests knowing full well that it is a viable option.

It is an option but not one Shanara is comfortable in fulfilling. The spleen plays a crucial role in the body's ability to fight off bacteria, living without the organ makes you more likely to develop infections. Tris's quality of life would be fatally effected if Shanara were to remove it. Up on the Colony, Tris would probably have a very good chance at a long and happy life because of the advanced medical supplies and equipment readily available, but down on Earth, her chances are slim. Since it is only a tear and not a rupture, Shanara's other option is to try and repair the damage. Uncommon, not impossible but still incredibly risky.

With only a moment to choose between these two options, Shanara goes with her gut and chooses the later.

"I'm going to repair the spleen," the young doctor informs Clarke. Whatever opinion she has on the matter, Clarke decides to put it aside and encouragingly nod instead, noticing how hard Shanara is trying to hide the worried expression that is slowly seeping onto her features.

"Do we have any synthetic thread?" Shanara asks, still applying pressure to the bleeding organ.

Running over to the medical supply containers, Clarke retrieves the synthetic thread they have left. Looping it through a sterile needle, she hands it to Shanara with a needle holder.

"Lexa," Shanara motions for the girl to stand next to her. "Take one of your hands and continue to apply pressure here. When I tell you, lift the gauze."

Nodding, Lexa does as she's told. Her eyes dart all over Tris's bloody stomach. Still sceptical, she glances at Shanara and Clarke and notices their hard expressions. The determination in their eyes is clear and for the first time since their meeting, Lexa doesn't feel as thought these Sky People are their enemy.

"Now," Shanara says after a short pause. Working quickly, with Clarke still trying to control the bleeding with one hand and moving Tris's stomach out of the way with the other, Shanara attempts to stitch the small but dangerous tear. A small amount of blood makes its way onto her face, annoyingly close to her eye. Releasing a string of curse words, Shanara finds it very difficult to get the needle neatly through the organ's surface. Anya takes a step closer, her breathing getting quicker. The small room fills with the sound of heavy breathing and the young doctor's frustrated words as she feels Tris's heart begin to die.

"She needs a transfusion," Clarke says, knowing full well that Tris will not survive without one.

Shanara can only nod is agreement, finally getting the needle through the spleen's tissue. "More gauze, the blood... I can't see-"

"Does Tris have any brothers or sisters?" Clarke asks the room, to which no one answers.

"Why?" Lexa replies, quietly.

Still balancing Tris's stomach in one of her hands and packing more gauze like Shanara asked, Clarke answers, "Tris has lost a lot of blood. Even if Shanara manages to repair the tear, her chances of survival are slim because of her significant blood loss. She needs a blood transfusion. It's a procedure that will replace the blood she's lost."

"Why do you need a brother or sister?" Lexa asks then, her eyes wide.

"Everyone has a blood type," Clarke explains quickly but clearly. "We don't know Tris's blood type. If we just give her some random person's blood and they don't have the same blood type, it could be fatal. If we give her a parent's blood, there's still only a fifty percent chance that it is a match. A sibling's blood is the best chance at a blood type match."

Anya eventually turns to one of her men and she speaks to him in their language. The Grounder strides out of the room, returning when Shanara has almost finished stitching up Tris's spleen, a young man close behind him. Once he recognises the young girl lying open on the table, a shout escapes his body and then he lunges for the young doctor. He's held back as Anya shouts at him, asserting her authority. Shanara finishes the last stitch, fully repairing the tear as best she can and not letting the commotion at the other end of the room shake her concentration.

"Lexa, can I have that tool right there," Shanara points at the scissors by Clarke.

She cuts the thread and stands up right, taking a moment to closes her eyes and leave a long breath escape her tense body. Putting the surgical tools aside, Shanara's shoulder screams at her in pain as she takes the other organs from Clarke's hands and places them back where they are supposed to be. Taking out her stethoscope, she listens to Tris's heart as presumably her brother, walks over to them. Anya says something to him in their language once again and he turns to both Clarke and Shanara, his nostrils flaring and his eyes filled with a sort of hatred. Shanara notes how similar they look, he and the child on the table. The same nose and high cheekbones, the same shade of hair. His left cheek has a gash on it, and for such a young man in maybe his early twenties, Shanara is sure that he's already been exposed to too much trauma, much like his poor sister. Charlotte's face then flashes before Shanara's eyes and her pity is now replaced with hostility.

"She needs that transfusion now," Shanara remarks as she takes the stethoscope out of her ears and places it around her neck.

After Clarke retrieves surgical tubing and needles, she asks for the young man's arm. For a moment, she worries he won't comply but then he shrugs off his thick coat and juts his arm toward her. Cautiously, she begins to find the young man's vain. After successfully doing so, Clarke inserts the other end into Tris's arm. While she does that, Shanara inspects the girl's organs and ensures everything is in order. She has Lexa help her take out the gauze when her world begins to tilt.

"Shit."

"What is it?" Lexa asks.

"Clarke," Shanara manages to utter. "Take... Take the surgical tools from my hands."

The whole room suddenly becomes hostile. Clarke quickly takes the metal tools from the young doctor's bloody, gloved hands as she starts to take shaky steps backwards. The dark space goes in and out of focus as her back hits a wall. Finding it hard to breathe, Shanara bends over and puts her hands on her knees.

"I..."

"Shanara?"

"What is happening to her?" Anya steps forward, a hand on her sword.

"I lost a lot of blood..." Shanara manages to answer. The world blurs as she finds it hard to keep herself up right, "...from the arrows. I've been on...my feet. I'm... I'm going to pass out... Shit."

Leaning all her weight against the wall, she closes her eyes and wills herself to stay conscious. There is no way that she is leaving Clarke by herself with all these dangerous strangers.

"Clarke," Shanara struggles to breathe. "You have to finish the...surgery. You...have to close Tris up."

"Okay," Clarke assures her. "She needs air," she turns to Anya then, her eyes wild and pleading.

"Fuck this-"

Stumbling about, Shanara manages to make it to the room's entrance. Her world continues to blur, her vison filled with white dots. Her chest tightens after every step that she makes. She claws at the walls as her body begins to collapse. Her shoulder and leg scream at her in pain, throbbing with a firry passion. She shouts at the heaping Grounder keeping her from the outside world. Shanara hears a spattering of words behind her and then suddenly she's falling up the stairs and out into the day.

Using her arm to shield herself from the blinding daylight, the young doctor falls helplessly to her knees. Her hair falls over her shoulders as she rips the surgical mask off her face and takes hurried, deep breath. Shanara drags at her lab coat as beads of sweat fall from her face. The unfocused world around her slowly starts to fade back into reality. The white spots in her vison disappear and the weight on her chest begins to lift. Shanara's hands tingle as she regains her strength, one painful second at a time. As her breathing returns to normal and the her mind finally clears, she lifts her head and is confronted by her surroundings.

Small huts and large fires surround her. The familiar smell of blood is prevalent, as well as the smell of roasting meat and dirt. Hulking shadows decorate the wooden landscape, fiercely dressed in thick, dark clothing. The small army of Grounders stop what they are doing once their eyes land on the strange Sky girl covered in blood. Their hands find their weapons and their facial expressions quickly change from that of shock to something dangerous. Before they have time to act though, and before Shanara really has time to react to this new world she's stumbled into, someone grabs her by her injured arm and she's shoved back into the room from which she just came.

"Ah, let go of me-"

Shanara manages to escape the Grounder's grasp and she wearily makes her way back to Clarke, who is finishing the last stitch on Tris's abdomen. Removing her now dirty gloves, she places the surgical mask back over her mouth and nose as she inspects Clarke's work. The stitches are perfect, just like Shanara knew they would be. After giving her an approving nod, Shanara goes to the medical supplies and finds the antibiotics needed to treat septicaemia. Looking at the two vials she's found, she frowns. If she had her way, she'd use a different type of antibiotic but it is the only viable option they have down on Earth. Clarke stops the transfusion between Tris and her brother once Shanara approaches the table again, and Clarke then hands Shanara a syringe. Taking exactly 10ml from the vial, the young doctor gives Tris the antibiotics intravenously, directly into the vein.

Sighing, Sharna takes a couple steps back. Clarke does the same only a moment later and she crosses her arms as they both stare the young girl they miraculously just saved. They look at each other and nod knowingly. The Grounders glance curiously between the two Sky girls and wonder if this is apart of the procedure. After a moment, Lexa takes a step back too, removing her gloves and mask. The Grounders carrying the fire retreat obediently once they see Lexa doing so, along with Tris' brother. If Shanara and Clarke wasn't so tired, they might have noticed, but they don't.

A long silence fills the room.

Anya is the first to speak, "What now?"

"The only thing we can do is wait," Shanara tells them all, her mask muffling her tired words. Glancing at Clarke, "She needs fluids."

"There are only two bags of IV fluids left," Clarke answers from across the table. "They're not going to be enough."

"There's only 90ml of antibiotics left too. All we can do is hope the septicaemia isn't severe enough for her to need more medication," Shanara informs Clarke.

"I wish we had more of...everything," Clarke says then, hiding her sad expression behind her surgical mask. "I wish we had monitors, better equipment, more medication, a sterile room."

"All we can do is work with what we have," Shanara says disappointedly, wringing her stethoscope through her hands.

They glance at each other for a moment longer before they set off to do their separate tasks. Clarke grabs the IV fluids while Shanara listens to Tris' heart and lungs again. All the Grounders can do is watch and listen curiously as the Sky girls exchange strange words as if they were the only two in the room.


	8. Chapter 8

**This is a hella long chapter. Apologies if it is a tad boring. As always, please leave a review.**

* * *

Clarke fashions a makeshift sling out of a long piece of fabric and throws it at Shanara. Sitting in the parallel corner, Shanara glances at the fabric which lands by her knee. Sighing, she turns away from it and glances at Clarke.

"I don't need it," she says then.

"Stop being so stubborn," Clarke tells her friend, not bothering to look at her. "You've already torn a stitch. Just wear the sling."

Not wanting to argue and feeling a little guilty, Shanara grabs the sling and slides it over her neck and places her left arm inside. Letting her head hit the wall behind her, she looks up at Tris still unconscious on the table. Having just administered her hourly dosage of antibiotics, Shanara has nothing to do but sit and contemplate life. Conversation between herself and Clarke is sparse, having died down hours ago, shortly after Anya left the room with a few of the other Grounders. Much to Shanara's dismay, two are left guarding the entrance.

Closing her eyes, Shanara manages to sleep for a short while. When she wakes, she finds a wooden bowl filled with some berries and meat on the floor in front of her. Looking up, Shanara notices the two Grounders are now gone and her eyes light up with possibility, but then she finds Lexa leaning against the opposite wall, eyes on her.

"They are both just outside," Lexa says, as if knowing what Shanara is thinking.

"Figures. I didn't think escape would be that easy," she replies, grabbing the bowl. The idea of the food being poisoned crosses her mind but Shanara figures if she doesn't eat it she's going to die from starvation anyways, so fuck it.

"I didn't want to wake you. You need the sleep," Clarke tells Shanara. "I've already given Tris the antibiotics and checked her heart and lungs."

"Thank you," Shanara replies between bites. After devouring the food, her mind slips back to the kids left at their camp. She wonders what they're doing right now. Feeling guilty about abandoning them without saying a word, she shakes her head and tries to think of something else. It doesn't work though because it is all she has left to think about. Glancing at Tris again, Shanara is reminded of Jasper. Not really knowing now long she's been stuck in this goddamn room, she has no way of really knowing if he's still alive. She has no way of knowing if any of them are still alive. What if the Grounders have gone back to finish the job?

"Is this it then?" Shanara asks, frustrated. Glancing at Clarke, "Do you think we're all going to make it through this?"

"I don't know," she answers honestly, hugging her knees.

"Are you going to kill us?" Shanara asks Lexa from the floor.

"The Commander hasn't decided yet," Lexa replies.

"The Commander? Who, Anya?" Clarke puzzles.

"Anya is the leader of her people, her Clan. The Commander is the leader of all 12 Clans," Lexa informs them, "The Commander is the only one who can decide what will happen to you and your people."

Not knowing how to answer, Shanara doesn't say a word. She has way too many questions to ask, yet she doesn't have the energy to ask any of them. She has a feeling none of them would be answered anyways. Clarke doesn't reply either. Left in silence, Shanara's mind begins to wonder. After a few moments, she can't take it anymore. Shanara gets to her feet and begins to pace her side of the room, her leg painful but bearable.

"None of this is your fault, Shanara," Clarke tells her from the floor after a short while. "Don't blame yourself."

The young doctor stops pacing and turns to her friend, stunned at how she was able to decipher exactly what she was thinking. Shanara wonders if she's that transparent or if Clarke simply knows her too well. Either way, Clarke's sentiment isn't able to calm the storm raging inside her.

"Jasper's dying and we're trapped here," Shanara says aloud. "He could already be dead for all we know. They all could be. How did this happen?"

Clarke is now on her feet, hands behind her back and her eyes downcast. "This was supposed to be our second chance."

An unexpected laugh rises from Shanara. It's a sad laugh and oddly cruel, "Second chance? What bullshit. If the Chancellor and all his sidekicks wanted to give you a real second chance down here they would have given us more supplies, taught you how to survive on the ground before shoving you all onto that ship. I mean, what if you weren't arrested? What if my dad wasn't able to put me on that ship? What if I had just been executed? Would there have even been anyone on that ship with medical experience?"

Clarke can't answer.

"And now we're here," Shanara never thought she'd be disappointed to be on the ground. She can't help but recall all the kids she's failed to save already, "I'm a doctor...I was supposed to save them."

Clarke frowns as she watches Shanara slowly spiral down a dark hole, "There is no way anyone could have know humans survived on the ground after the Nuclear Apocalypse."

They both glance at Lexa. She stares back, her eyes wide and unwavering.

Clarke walks up to Tris then and stares at her for a long moment before saying, "I want to talk to your Commander."

"Why?" Lexa asks.

"We are not your enemy. We have done what Anya asked of us. We have done everything we can for Tris," Clarke explains. "Shanara and I are the only healers our people have. They need at least one of us right now. Please, I just want to ask the Commander to let us go."

"You killed our people," Lexa says suddenly.

" _And you killed ours_ ," Clarke bites back. Shanara had told her everything hours ago, how their camp was ravaged, about all the fatalities, how the kids were found strung up in the trees. "Both our people have lost too many already. Won't the Commander even consider peace?"

Lexa's facial expression is unreadable. Shanara doesn't breathe as she glances between Clarke and Lexa, their gaze locked on each other as tension begins to build. After a long moment, Lexa leaves the room without a word. Two Grounders then enter the room and stand stoic by the entrance, trapping the Sky girls inside the small space.

"Do you think that will really work?" Shanara asks the blonde.

"It's worth a try," Clarke sighs. "These Grounders aren't going anywhere, neither are we. We have to do something before more of us die needlessly."

Not entirely sure of how she feels about Clarke's plan, all Shanara can do in reply is nod. Minutes pass by in silence. Hours seem to drag by painfully before they hear anything from the outside world. Anya returns with a flurry of men following her. They stop short of Shanara and Clarke, their eyes narrowed and hands on their weapons.

"The Commander has agreed to return one of you back to your people," Anya tells them both. Glancing at Clarke, she tells her, "But it must be you."

"No," Clarke says, shaking her head. "It should be Shanara, Jasper needs a doctor. Our people need Sha-"

"The Commander has already decided," Anya cuts her off, looking at the young doctor. "You will stay here and heal Tris. The other will return to your camp. The Commander has also agreed to meet with the leader of your people. It is this or nothing."

Shanara can see Clarke begin to disagree but she stops her friend by taking her arm with her one good hand, "You have to go, Clarke. Go back to camp, talk to everyone. Talk with the Commander. We cannot waste this chance."

"And what am I supposed to say?" Clarke exclaims. "We have to negotiate with the people who killed our friends? Graham will argue with everything I have to say. If you go, at least you can talk to everyone without having to worry about-"

"Graham wants what is best for all of us," Shanara finds herself saying. "Don't get me wrong, he's a complete douche but even I can't ignore the fact that he cares about the welfare of our people. You and Graham have that in common. Stop doubting yourself. You are our leader, Clarke. It was you who suggested peace negotiations. I don't want to hear the 'you're older, Shanara. Everyone needs you' bullshit anymore. Talk with the Commander, do whatever you have to," Shanara hugs her friend then. "I know you can do this."

Clarke is then dragged from Shanara's arms and led away. Before leaving she looks at Shanara, eyes determined, "Stay alive."

* * *

Dirty, bloody hands dig their long nails into Shanara's flesh painfully, ripping at the skin and drawing blood. She's surrounded by nothing but darkness. She can't move her arms or her legs, she can't even open her mouth to scream in pain. Shanara is unable to breathe as long talons scratch her face, blinding her. The last sensation she feels is something cold and sharp glide across her neck, then she's chocking.

Shanara's eyes fly open as a frantic sob escapes her lips. The tight feeling in her chest makes breathing an incredibly hard task for her. Glancing quickly at her surroundings, she begins to calm herself. The damp, dark room is just how she remembers it, Tris still unconscious on the table in the centre of the room. Sitting in the furthest corner of the room, Shanara curls herself into a tight ball as a cold breeze hits her. Shaking her head, she tries to forget the vivid nightmare. Looking up, she finds Lexa staring at her intently. Holding her gaze, Shanara waits for her to say something but she doesn't.

Shanara isn't entirely sure how long it's been since Clarke returned to camp. It could be hours, it could be days. With no windows in this dirty room, it's hard to tell when it's night and day so her internal clock is fucked. Sleep isn't exactly plentiful either, so time feels almost useless to her. Once in a while she's let out of the room and taken to a heavily wooded area to relieve herself. Then Shanara's escorted straight back to the room, a blindfold around her eyes obscuring her view. She knows nothing of what the Grounders home looks like other than the few seconds she was able to glimpse ages ago. At first the young doctor was curious, now she is simply just tired.

After staring at the same wall for an eternity, Shanara grows frustrated.

"Is the Commander going to kill me?" Shanara finds herself asking Lexa.

Lexa seems somewhat surprised, but it fades quickly, "I don't know."

Lexa's words hit Shanara a little hard. She's horribly used to the idea of her impending doom. She wonders to herself how they will do it, if they do end up killing her. Will the Commander order her to be hanged from a tree to send a message? The thought makes her feel a little sick, but the sensation quickly passes. Choosing not to dwell on it, she presses on.

"Has Clarke at least spoken to your Commander?"

"Yes, the Commander has met with your leaders," Lexa informs her.

"And?" Shanara asks expectantly.

"There are many difficult choices to make," Lexa sighs. "The Commander has the welfare of all 12 Clans to think of. You pose a threat to all of us. You killed our people. You are still our enemy."

"Enemy," Shanara finds herself repeating, laughing astonishingly. " _You_ attacked _us_. We did nothing wrong. All we did was defend ourselves."

"You invaded our land, our home," Lexa says evenly but there is a little bite behind her words. "This was an act of war."

"We didn't even know you existed," Shanara exclaims. "We didn't even know anyone survived the radiation after the Nuclear Apocalypse. I may have been born on a ship up in the sky and you may have been born here on Earth but you and I, we look the same, because we're both human beings. Earth is my home just as much as yours, it's where we all belong. We didn't land here to start a war. You strung up dead children from trees," Shanara almost spits, her eyes threatening tears. " _That_ was an act of war."

Lexa is quite for a while. Then she speaks, "We have a way of life here, one that you fail to understand."

"You didn't even give us a chance," Shanara shakes her head. "The Commander could have met us, worked with us. You and your people could have at least told us you were here, taught us your way of life. But you just came in and started killing us instead. If that's your way of life, then I don't know what to say."

"What exactly do you want to do here?" Lexa asks then.

"What everyone wants," Shanara gets to her feet. "We want to live, that's all. Everyone sent down here wasn't afforded that luxury. All of us spent our last days in a cell, staring at four metal walls. Some have spent the better part of their lives locked up. They're just children, they want what any kid wants. Freedom. Laughter. Love. "

"And you? Are you not a child looking for the same?" Lexa asks, her eyes filled with something Shanara can't quite place.

"I'm nineteen, a few years older than everyone. Kids were the only one's who were supposed to be sent down here. I'm not supposed to be here, but I am," Shanara admits. _Age_. What does age even matter anymore? Up on the Colony it was the difference between life and death. Down on Earth, it's all the same. Just one big mess. Why must Shanara distinguish herself from everyone else simply because she was born a few years before them. "But I guess I'm wrong. They stopped being children the day they were sent down here to die. They stopped being children the day they had to watch their friends die."

Looking at the floor, Shanara can't hide her sadness and disappointment.

"What do you want, Shanara?"

Shanara's a little shocked to hear Lexa say her name but her question easily distracts the young doctor. What exactly does she want? Left to her thoughts, she finally looks up at the wide eyed brunette, answering her question, "Redemption."

Shanara's answer silences the both of them for a very long time. The young doctor continues to check on Tris regularly, administrating what little antibiotics they have left. An oddly comfortable period of quiet continues to ensue, with both women still deep in though. Tired, Shanara suddenly feels as though she was far too personal with this complete stranger, this Grounder that is her enemy, a member of the people who killed Charlotte.

Taking a seat on the floor in her preferred corner, Shanara sighs, "All we want is a chance to live our lives, in peace."

* * *

"Wake up!"

Shanara's being lifted to her feet before she even manages to open her eyes, "What is happ-"

"Tris is waking up," Anya says.

Shanara gathers herself together professionally, takes her arm out of the sling and quickly goes to Tris' side. Taking out her stethoscope to check her heart and lungs, Shanara notices Tris flutter her eyelids and mutter a few words.

"Tris?" Shanara says. "My name is Dr Preston. Everything is okay. You are safe."

Tris mumbles something again and the young doctor strains her ears to try and decipher what she's saying but unfortunately, none of it makes sense to her.

"She's speaking Trigedasleng," Anya elaborates. "She says she's cold."

"She needs some blankets to keep her warm, but we have to be careful," Shanara explains. "Her wounds are still healing, she's more likely to get an infection now then any other time. The covers have be very clean, washed in boiling hot water and dried in a clean environment. I need some clean material too, I've ran out of gauze and I need to take out this chest tube."

It takes Anya a moment to fully understand what Shanara is saying, but eventually she indicates for one of her men to follow the young doctor's directions.

"Her fever has broken," Shanara informs Anya, slipping her arm back into her sling.

"Will she live?" Anya asks, obviously a little worried and doing an exceptional job at hiding it.

"Well," Shanara doesn't really know what to say. As a doctor she's done everything in her power to give Tris the best chance of survival but there's always a possibility that something could go wrong. However, the young doctor isn't exactly sure if she should tell Anya that. Lying is never the right way to go though. "I can't give you a sure answer," Shanara answers truthfully, "anything could happen but I have done everything possible. What I can tell you is that the medicine is working. Luckily, we gave Tris the antibiotics before the septicaemia became serious. Her lungs sound clear which means I can finally take out the tube and close the wound. Her fever is what I was most worried about, but now that that has passed, there's every chance that she will live but she has to be left to recover properly."

Anya goes quiet for a short while and Shanara holds her gaze, unsure as to what is going on in her mind. For all she knows, Anya will walk around this table and slit her throat. Maybe she's simply confused, or perhaps she's imagining every possible way to kill the young doctor. Shanara is somewhat surprised when she receives a nod in response, and a look that is somewhat thankful.

As Shanara inspects the tube and its incision, another cold breeze passes through the room, almost extinguishing the torches hanging from the dark walls.

"Is there anyway we can move somewhere else?" Shanara asks, a little frustrated. "Somewhere warmer for Tris, somewhere with natural lighting for me. I'm going crazy down here."

"I will speak with the Commander," Anya offers.

Astonishingly, before long a pair of Grounders are bringing in a large piece of wood and lifting an unconscious Tris onto it. Shanara expects to be blindfolded or tied up and pushed out of the room, but instead two other Grounders simply motion toward the entrance and she obediently follows. Limping slightly, she makes her way up the small stairs and shields her eyes from the bright sun with her one functional arm. The Grounders fall into step with her, one on each side, the others carrying Tris a little further on.

As Shanara's eyes adjust to the light, she looks at her surrounding. A little gasp escapes her as she's stunned to see so many people, many more that she had seen only days ago. Lumbering men and lean women, all equally as intimidating, litter the enormous, wooded area she assumes they call home. Many of them are in large groups separated from each other, gathered around fires or spilling out of the entrances to cabins made of wood and metal. In the warm weather, they are no long covered in furs, instead they leave their arms and necks exposed, wearing long dark trousers and thin layers. Many of them are decorated with detailed tattoos, although she does notice a difference in design between each individual group. Others have scars on their skin instead. Some wear black paint, others white. Perhaps these are the clans Lexa mentioned, Shanara remembers.

The Grounders inch closer as Shanara walks through their camp, hands on axes, swards, daggers. They stare, snarl, judge her. Shanara doesn't let any of it intimidate her, even making eye contact with a few. A little self conscious though, she slides her sweaty palm into the pocket of her lab coat and clutches tightly onto her trusty stethoscope.

As they continue to walk, a sophisticated looking cabin comes into view, it's door wide open and smoke rising from a chimney on its roof. Tris is carried inside and Shanara quickly follows her inside. They place her carefully on a beautifully large wooden table. Unlike the dark, damp room she's been trapped in for God knows how long, this cabin is warm, clean and welcoming. The bright sunlight seeps through the door illuminating the space. A small fire burns in the fireplace and the room is decorated with a couple chairs in one corner, a single bed in another and a small wooden table with a bowl of water and a pile of clean cloths placed on it in another corner.

Shanara instantly goes to Tris once the Grounders set her down. She's checking her chest tube when a couple Grounders walk through the doorway carrying the two metal containers filled with what's left of the medical supplies, placing the containers under the table where they are easily accessible to Shanara. Wanting to get the chest tube out as soon as possible because of Tris' risk of contracting pneumonia, the young doctor reaches down and into the supplies looking for what she needs for the procedure. Gathering everything together, she realises she's ran out of gloves and she has no where near enough isopropyl alcohol to sterilize both her hands and the surgical equipment.

"Shit."

"What is it?"

Shanara looks up and finds Tris' brother looking at her from the doorway. All the other Grounders have filtered out of the room except for one standing in the corner with two more stationed outside the entrance. Looking past Tris' brother's shoulder, she can't help but notice many other Grounders approach the cabin almost threateningly. Shanara releases a little sigh of relief after the two Grounders at the door approach the others and speak to them in their languages, which makes them begrudgingly back off. She has no idea what they said but it probably just saved her life.

"Sky girl," Tris' brother comes to stand opposite her, a look of annoyance on his face.

"My name is Shanara," she informs him.

He brushes her off easily, eyes on his sister, "I'll ask again, what is wrong?"

"I don't have enough if this stuff," Shanara holds up the mostly empty bottle of isopropyl alcohol. "It's a chemical used to disinfect skin and what I've been using to sterilize the surgical tools. I need it to treat your sister. She might get sick again if bacteria enters her bloodstream. You don't happen to have some, do you?"

The young doctor knows that they do not, there is just no way. But since fruit does grow on the ground Shanara hopes they may have something very similar to what she needs, maybe something containing ethanol which can be produced from fruit. It's worth a chance so Shanara holds up the bottle for Tris' brother to sniff, just so he knows what exactly she needs. He's sceptical though, perhaps he thinks it is some type of poison. Just to prove that it's perfectly fine, Shanara smells it first. After a moment he does take the plastic bottle from her hand, sniffing lightly at the liquid. He leaves the room then with the isopropyl alcohol still in his grip, returning a little while later with a long metal bottle in his other hand.

"Will this do?" He shoves the bottle at her.

Taking it, Shanara takes out the cork from its top and cautiously sniffs at the liquid inside. Reeling back at the strong, burning smell, she nearly drops the bottle. Her eyes water as she covers her nose with her palm.

"What..." Shanara shakes her head. "Is this...Is this pure ethanol?"

"It smells something like your liquid. This comes from our corn," he says, the young doctor's reaction making him smirk a little. "We drink it."

"You drink this?" Shanara exclaims, shocked.

He nods in reply, "Can you use this to heal my sister?"

"Well," Shanara looks at it, trying to recall something she had read about percentages of ethanol in a book up on the Colony. "I mean, yes. I can use this, thank you."

"That's all you can have," Anya says as she walks through the doors. Tris' brother walks around the table as he looks at his sister, coming to stand obediently next to his leader. "It is the last of our summer stock."

Shaking the bottle, Shanara worries that there wont be enough but she sighs and nods in reply. As she sorts through the surgical tools and prepares Tris for the tube removal, the metal handcuff still attached to her left wrist dangles aimlessly from where Shanara's arm rests in its sling. Taking off the sling in annoyance, the young doctor inspects the cuffs. Her wrist is very red and agitated where the metal has been locked around since the day of her planned execution. The other side which dangles freely is dirty, bloodied and very heavy. Stubbornly pulling at the cuffs, Shanara sighs in frustration as she can't think of any way of getting them off.

"Come with me," Anya says suddenly.

She exits the cabin and Shanara looks at the other Grounders hoping for some sort of clue as to what is happening. All they give her is a look which says she should have already followed their leader. Obediently, she follows Anya to the outskirts of their camp near the entrance to the woods. She stops at a huge tree stump and picks up an axe from the floor.

"Your hand," Anya indicates to the wooden stump.

"What, why?"

Shanara finds herself panicking a little as she stares at the axe Anya has in her grasp. Slowly, she starts to back away but someone grabs her hand from behind. She's dragged forward as she fights. A Grounder tugs roughly at her arm as he forces her palm onto the stump of wood. Shanara tries to fight back but she's forced onto her knees. She screams as the stitches in her shoulder tear. As Anya raises the axe above her head, all the young doctor can do is tightly close her eyes.

Shanara hears the loud thud and a sharp pain in her wrist. The large hands holding her in her place leave her body. Tentatively, she opens up her eyes to find her shaking hand still attached to her left wrist, one half of the metal handcuffs discarded off to the side. Shanara should feel relief but instead she reels in anger.

"What the FUCK!" Shanara shouts, getting to her feet. "I thought you were going to chop off my hand! Why didn't you just tell me you were cutting off my cuffs-"

"Be quiet," Anya grabs Shanara and pulls her forward. Retrieving a knife from her side, she thrusts the knife under the cuff and uses it to bend the broken metal until it slides off of the young doctors arm.

Looking at her sore and cut skin, Shanara sighs with relief as she freely manoeuvres her wrist without the painful metal of the cuffs dragging at her skin. Looking up at Anya, she thanks the Grounder Leader but her gratitude is replaced with annoyance as she looks down at her throbbing shoulder, blood soaking through her dirty lab coat. Shanara's annoyance and frustration doesn't subside as they all trek back to the wooden cabin. Clarke isn't here to help her repair the stitches, not that there is enough thread for her and Tris anyways. The pain is also nearly unbearable whenever she moves her shoulder which the young doctor isn't exactly happy with either, especially since she's unsure if she can conduct Tris' tube removal with only one hand.

The first thing Shanara notices as she enters the familiar cabin is a man standing over Tris, who is now covered in a bundle of clean blankets, inspecting her wounds with a little curiosity. As she approaches the stranger who has a long beard and thick, messy hair, he turns to Shanara, a spiral tattoo on the left side of his face and another detailed tattoo on his left cheek. Holding her shoulder, she walks over to Tris and glances at the tall, built man.

"This is our primary healer," Anya informs the young doctor.

"I am told you are your people's healer," the stranger says, his voice husky.

"I suppose so, yes," Shanara replies. Offering him her hand, she introduces herself, "I am Dr Shanara Preston."

He stares at her bloody hand for a long moment before taking it in his own, both of their grips equally as strong, "My name is Nyko."

Shanara and Nyko size each other up for a few second with the both of them deducing that neither of them are an immediate threat to one another. Before long though, Shanara is distracted by her shoulder. Roughly shrugging off her lab coat and throwing it on the bed in the corner of the room, she approaches the fire as she peels back her t-shirt which is now drenched in hot blood, revealing the torn stitches and nasty open wound just below her collarbone. Although she cannot see the exit wound, she can feel her blood dripping down her back from the freshly torn open wound. Gripping the mantelpiece with her left hand, she closes her eyes and breathes through the pain.

Turning to the bowl of water, Shanara washes her hands the best she can and dries them with the clean cloths before retuning to Tris and prepping her for the tube removal.

"What are you doing?" Nyko eyes the young doctor.

"I'm going to remove this tube," Shanara replies, applying iodopovidone to Tris' skin.

"Why did you put it there in the first place?" Nyko asks.

"There was fluid in her lungs which was stopping Tris from breathing," she glances at him. "Inserting the tube meant the fluid could be drained. I left it in so that her lung could re-expand. Now that it has, I don't want to leave it in any longer because of the risk of infection."

Using the ethanol the Grounders have given her, Shanara disinfects her hand and the surgical tools.

"Can you help me?" Shanara reluctantly asks after a moment. "My one shoulder is little too painful to move."

Nodding, Nyko waits for instructions. Retrieving her stethoscope, Shanara listens to Tris' lungs while she tells Nyko to carefully pull out the tube at an angle. Tris stirs slightly as he does so but she does not gain consciousness. After, the young doctor carefully saws up the wound. All the while, Anya, Nyko and all the other remaining Grounders in the cabin watch her every movement with suspicion and curiosity.

"You don't cauterize the wound?" Nyko asks once she is done.

"Cauterize?" Shanara glances at him incredulously, remembering back to when she had read about cauterizing wounds in a book years previously. "No, never. Up on the Colony we only stitched up wounds with thread like this or we used staples, but we weren't sent down with any of those."

Reaching for the synthetic thread that has nearly run out, the healer inspects it cautiously, "Aren't the wounds more susceptible to infection if you only tie the skin back together with this thread?"

"No more so than it would be if you were to burn the wound," Shanara turns to Nyko, holding her shoulder.

"Is Tris well?" Anya interjects.

"As well as she can be," Shanara answers. "Her fever is gone and there is no sign of infection or any sort of complications due to the surgery. With time, she will recover."

Anya seems to be happy with the young doctor's response. She then focuses her gaze on the healer. Speaking to him in their language, Shanara watches as Anya indicates to her as they talk. Not understanding why, she grows suspicious and slowly backs away from them. They turn to her as she eyes them, her gaze flying to their weapons. Is this it? Are they going to kill her now that she's done her job and a new doctor has arrived? All the Grounders sense what she's thinking. Anya looks a little entertained before she exits the wooden cabin, two Grounders following her out. Tris' brother stays, standing stoic in the corner of the room and keeping a watchful eye on his sister.

"You are bleeding out," Nyko eyes Shanara.

Knowing there is not enough thread to close her wounds, the young doctor closes her eyes and sighs at the idea of burning her skin.

"What did Anya say?" Shanara asks. "When she looked at me, what did she say?"

For a moment, she doesn't believe Nyko will answer. Surprisingly though, he does, "Anya told me to heal you."

"She wants you to help me?" The young doctor asks incredibly. "She's not going to kill me now that you're here for Tris?"

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best thing to say and Shanara regrets it instantly. Even if they weren't thinking about it before, she's literally putting ideas in their head now.

"I will be honest," Nyko looks at her. Perhaps he notices the look of hopelessness on her face, "I do not know what will happen to you. I do not know what will happen to your people. I do know that you will die if you do not treat your wounds. I will help you, if you wish."

Feeling a little overwhelmed, Shanara wants to sit down. Her head is swirling with so many questions that they make her lightheaded. She's confused, in pain, sad, angry, tired. She's had enough of being a prisoner. Shanara has had enough of not knowing what is happening back at camp. She's had enough of not being in control. Stroking her long hair, an action she does to calm herself, doesn't even work anymore. What the hell is she supposed to do? The young doctor wants to scream. She wants to tip the bed over, throw the bowl of water at the wooden wall. As she writhes silently, she's reminded of her father. Lin Preston, he would know what to do now. He always knew what to do. Shanara misses him. She wants him here by her side. She wants her mother to sit her down and saw up her wound. She wants her father to stroke her hair. But they are not here to guide Shanara anymore. She's all alone.

The young doctor is distracted from her thoughts when Nyko's hand lands on her arm, "We must do it now."

Blowing out a long breath, Shanara whips off her t-shirt before she backs out like a coward, "Just do it."

Her lab coat and t-shirt now gone, she stands unapologetically in her bra, gripping the edge of the table to steady herself. Nyko cleans the blood dripping from her wounds and tells the young doctor to drink the ethanol. As she watches him heat a large knife in the fire, she swallows the Grounder made alcohol without a second thought. As she drinks, a awful burning sensation spreads down her neck and through her abdomen, adding to the numbness that she feels radiating all over her body. Nyko then hands her a piece of wood to chew on. Slipping it between her teeth, Shanara briefly locks eyes with Tris' brother still standing in the corner of the cabin before squeezing her eyes shut as the Grounder doctor cauterizes the arrow wound on her back. As the smell of her burning flesh fills her nostrils, her pride does not allow her to cry in front of these strangers. Instead she grips table with all her strength, silently screaming as her jaw tightens around the piece of wood in her mouth. After what feels like a lifetime, Shanara turns and watches as Nyko approaches and places the burning metal on the entrance wound on her shoulder.

Spitting the piece of wood on the floor, the young doctor tumbles over to the bed and throws on her ripped t-shirt. Enable to recall the last time she ate or drank any water, Shanara assumes the ethanol will be as rancid as it was going down as it would be coming up so she keeps her hand over her mouth to keep herself from retching. She wills herself to get up, to throw her dirty lab coat over her shoulders and carry on. She has to look strong in front of these Grounders. Weakness is unacceptable. Shanara's father was always strong, even unto his dying breath. She can't let him down, not now. However, she finds herself unable to stand.

Shanara Preston's world goes black.

* * *

The young doctor stands with her arms crossed over her chest, two feet behind a conscious Tris, surrounded by Grounders. As intimidating as some of them are, Shanara keeps her eyes trained on her patient. Her gaze follows every little movement Tris makes. She had told her not to even attempt to walk but stubbornly she ignored the young doctor's advice. Shanara explained that the pressure of walking could rip her stitches, but the girl didn't seem to care, all she wanted was to go outside and Shanara wasn't about to say no after everything this girl has gone through. So outside in the blinding daylight they both stand, Anya not far off to the side and Tris' brother standing protectively at his young sister's side.

Tris was certainly not very welcoming toward Shanara after she gained consciousness, it was their bullets that nearly killed her in the first place after all. The young girl had tried to hit the doctor but ended up causing herself more pain. Anya begrudgingly explained that the sky girl was the one that healed her, and after a few more words she had calmed down. Shanara knows Tris doesn't trust her, none of the Grounders really do, but the feeling is mutual. When Shanara takes the young girl's arm though, she doesn't snap at her like before, instead she glances at the young doctor with an almost understanding look. Some of the people that she was talking with though don't seem to understand what is going on, and their hands quickly go to their weapons.

"What's wrong?" Shanara asks Tris, seemingly the only one to realise that something is indeed wrong. "Is it the pain?"

Tris nods slightly. "My chest," she adds, looking weaker than she just had.

Nyko then joins the both of them, taking his hand and placing it on her forehead. Shanara reaches into the pocket of her lab coat and retrieves her stethoscope. The audience of Grounders watch on with mild curiosity and scepticism as Shanara removes the thick animal fur covering the young girl's shoulders and listens to her heart and lungs using the unfamiliar medical equipment. Hearing a flutter in her breathing pattern, the young doctor's face falls.

"I think that's enough walking around for today, Tris," she says softly to the young girl before meeting Nyko's eyes. Recognising Shanara's worry, he reassures Tris that resting is what's best for her.

A flurry of Grounders accompany them back to the wooden cabin with Nyko helping Tris into a bed that was brought in days ago. Tired, Shanara approaches Anya, her protective Grounders now accustomed to the young doctor's presence no longer draw their weapons which she is silently thankful for.

"Tris needs to rest," Shanara informs Anya. "Her immune system is weak which is effecting her healing process. She will only get worse if she continues to put pressure on her organs."

"She is strong," Anya turns to the young doctor.

"I know," she replies, "but she won't be as strong as she was if she doesn't rest. She will only get worse if she does not."

Anya seems almost unhappy with Shanara's answer but nods in agreement. What is so wrong with resting? Tris' body has been through a terrible ordeal, don't these Grounders understand that she needs to recover? Tris didn't seem to understand that. She refused to listen when Shanara told her not to stand or walk. The young girl had almost expectantly looked at Anya. It was as if she was trying to prove some point. Resting and recovering is not a sign of weakness, at least not to Shanara. There is no shame in it. Grounders on the other hand, what do they consider to be a weakness?

* * *

"Your wounds are getting better," Nyko tells Shanara as he applies his own poultice to her healing skin. Made from sort of plant or flower, it does seem to be doing surprisingly well.

"Thank you for-"

As Shanara speaks to Nyko, a small army of Grounders march into the wooden cabin. Glancing at Tris and her brother with confusion, her eyes widen when she realises that they have come for her. Nyko and one of the Grounders exchange some words in their own language before they grab her arms and escort her out of the cabin. In mild panic, Shanara glances behind her shoulder at Nyko, his facial expression betraying nothing of what is going on. She manages to mumble a few words as they drag her through the Grounder camp. No one answers her questions. She plants her feet in the ground, ignoring the pain screaming from her arm and leg. The more she struggles the harder her escorts push her forward. Crowds of Grounders start to form around them, dressed in darkness, a gleam of hatred in some of their eyes. Anya comes into few then, her hands held together in front of her, black paint smeared around her eyes. She looks somewhat official.

Shanara can't help but shake, her eyes wide in horror. Is this it?

"Are you going to kill me?" Shanara finds herself calling out to Anya, to which she receives no reply. "ARE YOU GOING TO KILL ME?"

As Anya again offers no reply, Shanara's frame goes ridged, the oxygen in her lungs leaving her body. Her eyes begin to tear up as she shakes her head. She loses the sensation in her feet and fingertips, her body going numb. Bile rises in her throat, the bread and meat she had eaten earlier threatening to come up. Shanara has been confronted by the idea of dying too many times to count by now. Only days ago she was thinking to herself at night that if she were to be executed, she wouldn't fight it. But right now, she can't even fathom the idea of dying. Shanara wants to live. If not for herself, then for those left at camp. For Clarke and Wells. For Charlotte. Out of the corner of her eye, somewhere deep in the trees, Shanara notices a man and woman staring at her. Black and blonde hair. Her father and mother.

A horrid cry escapes her lips as she pulls at both Grounders holding her arms, head butting the one to her right and punching the other in the jaw. Caught off guard, the two standing behind her are slow to react to Shanara's assault, receiving a kick to the groin and a punch to the face, respectively. A loud shout echoes through the camp. Turning to Anya, the army of surrounding Grounders stop in their tracks, only steps away from Shanara.

Breathing deeply, the young doctor raises her good arm and points a shaking finger at Anya, "If you think I'm going to let you kill me without a fight, you're wrong."

Slightly amused, a smirk makes its way onto Anya's hard face. Shanara raises her fists, glancing all around her at the Grounders gathered. Like Anya, some look amused. Some even laugh. Other look ready to fight, ready to kill her. By the time Shanara's gaze goes back to Anya, she finds Lexa by her side, her eyes wide and seemingly innocent, her mouth in a hard line. She's dressed differently than before, but the young doctor ignores all that and tries to focus on the task at hand.

"Very well," Anya steps forward. "Ward."

At the call of his name, a large, lumbering man steps forward, his eyes ablaze and a sword in his hand. Anya removes one of her blades from its sheath, offering it to Shanara. For a moment she genuinely contemplates the idea of taking it, but she knows nothing about fighting with a weapon. However, she does know how to fight. It would be suicide if she took the blade. This is not the time to be stupid or to take risks. Shanara must be smart.

"Keep your sword," she tells Anya. "Why don't we do this the old fashioned way, no weapons?" Shanara glances at Ward and Anya in turn, forcing a small smile onto her face. Gesturing to the audience of Grounders, she adds, "Far more entertaining, don't you think?"

Anya considers Shanara's words for a moment before turning to Ward and nodding. As soon as he discards his sword, the Grounders surrounding them back away and create a tight, wide circle around them. With no way of escape in sight, all Shanara has left to do is fight for her life. She nods to herself before taking a deep breath. Walking to the circle's outer edge, Shanara removes her lab coat and retrieves her stethoscope from it's pocket. Running her thumb over the engraving of her initials and remembering the day her parents gave it to her, she places both items on the floor before turning to Ward with a determined look on her face. Joining him in the middle of the circle, she smooths out her dirty, tattled clothes before preparing herself for the fight of her life.

It starts out excruciatingly slowly. It literally pains Shanara, but she uses it to her advantage. She takes her opportunity to assess her opponent. He is certainly massive, towering over her by at least half a foot. The fur covering his upper half does not mask his strength, his broad shoulders and built arms also making him physically stronger than her. However, his large being suggests that he is slow which would mean he favours heavy punches. Shanara is quick and agile. It was something her father always complimented her on. She may have an injured thigh but her legs are her best bet at winning. A few strategic kicks in the right places could mean the difference between life and death.

The first few punches are thrown by Ward, confirming that he does indeed rely on his upper strength. Shanara easily misses the first two, although the third is too close for her liking. When Ward throws his fourth, he hits flesh. Shanara blocks but the hit is still painful, causing her to step backwards. Ignoring the shouts echoing around them, the young doctor tires to focus. Remembering the years of training she had gone through with her father, she knows what she has to do. Getting Ward off his feet is strategically the best way to beat him, that is what Lin Preston would say, therefore that is what Shanara Preston will do.

Ward throws a right hook, this time she effectively blocks and knees him hard in the ribs. He responds with a flurry of punches aimed at her face and side. He lands one on her side, to which Shanara hits his jaw. Although it doesn't make nearly as much of an impact as his did, it does distract him for long enough for Shanara to land another in the same place, with another brutal knee to the ribs. Ward's body bends slightly as she hits his side, leaving him eye level to Shanara. Taking her opportunity, she grabs his neck and head butts him square in the face. As he tumbles back from the impact, his nose dripping with blood, Shanara follows him and kicks him in his ribs. As she goes in for another though, Ward anticipates the hit and catches her leg, flinging her to the floor. Before she has time to recover, he marches forward in anger. Shanara rolls onto her back, missing the heavy boot meant for her abdomen. With not many options, she roars as she uses most of her strength to kick his knee cap with her sturdy shoe, causing him to fall onto his other knee. Lifting her back from the dirty ground, she goes in for a right hook, landing it on his jaw. As he reels back, it leaves her with enough time to get to her feet. The wound on her leg causes her to pause though, which Ward uses to his advantage by hitting her in the face. The impact throws her to the side. Another punch hits her face and for the slightest moment, all Shanara can see is black.

Warm breath is suddenly on the back of her neck, followed by thick arms around her throat which stops her breathing. In panic, she gasps for breath, forgetting everything that she was taught. As the arm around her neck squeezes harder, pressing against her trachea, her vision begins to blur. When her feet are lifted off the floor, she hears the whisper of her father's voice telling her to concede. Remembering him, a sudden rush of adrenaline goes through her. Placing her hands on the arm around her neck, she lifts her legs up as high as they will go and slams her body down, pulling Ward over her shoulder. Winded, his back lands heavily on the floor and his grip loosens on Shanara's neck. Elbowing him in the ribs, his grip goes slack. Crawling out from under his arm, she gasps and coughs, regaining her vision. Although a little stunned, Ward recovers his in enough time to grab Shanara's foot as she tries to get to her feet. Her forehead hits the ground hard as he trips her, blood spilling from somewhere on her face. Her shoulder screams at her as she claws the floor, wanting nothing more than to get to her feet. Large hands cling to her calf, stopping her from moving. Rolling onto her back, Shanara kicks him in the face. Freed of his painful grip, she rounds on him and knees him in the face. As he falls onto his back again, she lunges at Ward and wildly throws punches at him, hitting the Grounder anywhere she can.

Shanara's long, black hair tumbles from the top of her head, falling around her face in a mess. Ward grabs at it, using her locks to pull her face to the ground. He roars as he gets on top of her, bombarding her with punches. She shouts as he breaks her nose, as he purposefully hits her wounded shoulder. She starts to choke on her own blood as her body shakes with anger. Images of her family and her friends rush into her mind. This is not how she wants to be remembered. She's better than this. Shanara Preston is stronger than this.

With all her might, the young doctor punches Ward in the throat. When his hands go to his neck, Shanara pushes him off of her, kneeing him in the groin before crawling out from under him. In quick sequence, Shanara rises to her feet. With Ward still on his knees, she grabs at the fur on his collar and lifts one of her legs, throwing it over his shoulder. With one leg now on each side of his neck, Shanara folds her ankles over each other and squeezes with her all her strength. Reaching down and pulling one of his arms up into her grasp, Shanara leans until she falls onto her back, dragging Ward with her. With his neck trapped tightly between her thighs, he wriggles his head as he struggles to breath. His legs thrash about the place in an attempt to get out of the hold. Shanara grits her teeth together painfully, twisting his wrist in her hands as he throws his body around. His one free hand roams her leg trying to free his neck. His fingers inevitably find the arrow wound that is still heeling. In desperation, Ward digs his nails into the laceration and rips the stitches. Shanara screams through the pain, closing her eyes as they tear up. Although her leg trembles with agony for the slightest moment, her screams turn into a roar as she twists Ward's hand until she hears a crack, all the while squeezes her thighs tighter together until his movement stops. Only when she's sure that he's unconscious does she let go of his limp body.

Blinking up at the blue sky, Shanara takes in painful gulps of air, some of her hair sticking to the blood on her face. She doesn't try and move for a moment, fearing the agony she knows that awaits her as soon as she does.

Shanara grunts as she struggles into a seated position.

Her hands automatically go to her leg, blood from the wound soaking through the majority of her dirty trousers. She rocks her body, breathing through the burning pain and willing herself to get to her feet. It takes most of her strength but Shanara does get to her feet, her hair annoyingly getting in her way. She turns in a circle, searching the faces of the silent Grounders before finding the one she's looking for; Anya. Although her right eye is almost swollen shut and her left is blurred by her own tears and blood, she still manages to meet Anya's gaze. Not knowing what to say, Shanara doesn't utter a word.

Slowly, Anya takes her blade once again and throws it at the young doctor's feet. With a hard expression she says, "Finish it."

Looking down at the lethal weapon, Shanara shakes her head in disbelief. A fight to the death, Shanara doesn't know why she didn't expect this. It was stupid of her really, she was fighting to save her own life after all. This may be how Grounders do things, but it is certainly not what she believes to be right. Glancing back up at Anya, Shanara finally has something to say, "I don't want to kill him," she informs Anya loud enough for everyone to hear. "He lost a fight, that doesn't mean he deserves to die."

Before anyone has time to answer, Ward stirs on the floor. In the silence of this Grounder town, everyone watches on as his eyes pop open. Gasping for air, he instantly tries getting to his feet.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Shanara utters, holding her side.

As soon as his eyes land on her, Shanara knows the fight is over. With great ferocity, he lunges at her. Ward throws her to the ground, winding her. In a blur of pain and blood, he's hitting her again. With some effort, Shanara punches him in the nose and side, but it does little to stop his assault. Physically and mentally exhausted, all she can do is close her weary eyes and wish for death. As Shanara apologises to her father for giving up, a hard shoe hits her side making her roll over. Another hit, then another and blood is spilling from her lips. By some miracle, it all stops then. Shanara hears nothing but the sound of silence as she coughs, her entire body writhing in agony.

When Shanara rolls onto her back, she finds Ward standing over her. She winces as she is blinded by the glint coming off the sword he holds in his hand.

If she weren't in such pain, she might even be scared.

"Go ahead," Shanara says, admiring the beautiful colour of the sky. "Kill me."


	9. Chapter 9

Shanara wakes painfully and fearfully on the back of a horse, her hands tied together in front of her and a cloth bag over her head. Her limp body jolts around as the horse gallops through the wooded area. Bewildered and tired, she groans in agony as she falls forward, the Grounder seated behind her on the great stallion catching her before she collapses. If she were anymore conscious, Shanara might ask for the bag to be taken off her head, she'd ask where she's being taken and what is going on, however the young doctor is preoccupied with simply deciphering whether or not she is in fact dead.

She has no idea what death feels like, although she would not be surprised if she were in fact dead. Shanara certainly feels it. She's never felt such resounding suffering. Physically, she's destroyed. She can no longer centralise the pain, her entire body is simply numb from it. Her organs work harder than ever, trying to keep her alive. Her wounds bleed, the hot liquid oozing out of the messy cuts and lacerations lacing her body, soaking their way through the polyester material barely covering her limbs, but Shanara doesn't feel any of it. Perhaps she would if her mind weren't also suffering. Unable to see anything through the bag over her head, Shanara is dangerously left to her own thoughts. For reasons unknown, the young doctor is ashamed in herself. Surely she had done everything right? What other choices did she have? Has she wasted her second chance at life? She isn't entirely sure since she is having trouble piecing together what did in fact happen, but her body shakes with anguish for a reason. Shanara can't help but wonder what her family would say if they saw her, what her father would say. Her own father, Lin Preston, gave his life to get her down to Earth. Did he die in vain? All Shanara really wants is her father's warm arms around her fragile body.

Shanara Preston hopes that she is in fact dead so that she may reunite with her beloved father.

Strange echoes bounce around her as she slowly gains control over some of her senses. She's violently thrown back into reality when she's pulled from the horse's back and made to stand on her feet. With an unidentified hand on her arm, Shanara walks as she's lead forward, her legs a little shaky. Tripping slightly over the uneven ground, her ears slowly become attuned to the sound around her. First it's the sound of foliage under her feet and then it's voices. Distracted, she gasps when she's roughly forced to kneel. Sighing as the sensation of pain returns in her leg, she pulls against the ties around her wrists to stop herself from crying out.

Again, Shanara wonders to herself if she is to meet her demise. Kneeling on earth in an unknown location doesn't seem too promising to her. Suddenly then, the cloth bag covering her head is ripped off.

"What the fuck did you do to her?"

Shanara uses her bound hands to shelter her eyes from the light blinding her vision. She is unable to open one of her eyes but the other slowly adjusts to the daylight. Through the mass of hair sprawled over her shoulders and around her face, she makes out the form of a tall boy and a girl. Then another boy and another, then a whole crowd manifests before her.

"I was ordered to deliver her to you alive. Here she is," Anya's familiar voice rings aloud, "alive."

"That didn't mean you had to beat her half to death before handing her over to us," Graham growls from where he stands next to Clarke, a gun in hand and his face wild with anger.

"It was her choice," Anya replies.

Unbeknownst to her, Shanara kneels on the very outskirt of the unspoken boundary separating the delinquents camp and the Grounders territory. She was purposefully placed there, everyone knows it. Graham, Clarke and the Commander have agreed on a temporary truce until official peace negotiation can take place, and in a sign of friendship it was agreed that Shanara would be given back to her people, but still Anya challenges the teenagers by placing Shanara just out of their reach. Is it simply a test to see what the sky people will do? Or is it something more sinister, perhaps an invitation for war?

Clarke wanted to go to Shanara the moment she saw her being led toward them but she knew she had to wait. The moment they made her kneel, Clarke didn't think it could get any worse. Shanara's beloved lab coat is gone. Her trousers are drenched in blood. Her dirty t-shirt is ripped in numerous places, revealing some of her bra and many open, bleeding wounds and cuts. But then the bag covering her head is taken off and Clarke has to be retrained from running over to her friend. Wells held her back, whispering that they have to be careful, that the Grounders can kill Shanara if any of the delinquents make the wrong step. So she stands there, rigid next to Graham and the other kids sent down to Earth, her eyes trained on Shanara's battered face.

No one has replied to Anya, so they all stand there in silence, swords and guns drawn, the Grounder envoy on one side and those left of the delinquents on the other, tension growing every second. Clarke knows that she can't just stand there and do nothing.

"Graham," Clarke says, "I'm going to get her."

Graham can't exactly stop her. They will be standing there forever if no one does something. Someone has to make the first move and he knows it won't be the Grounders. He taps his foot quickly as his mind begins to run wild with different possibilities as to how this hand over will end. Graham doubts that the Commander will go against her word and despite telling Shanara ages ago that she doesn't belong with the delinquents, she is in fact one of them, making her worth the risk.

"Take Wells," Graham tells Clarke, keeping his eyes trained on the small army of Grounders and his hands on his gun.

Not wanting to make the situation anymore hostile and wanting nothing more than to get Shanara away from the Grounders, Wells places his gun by his feet before accompanying Clarke on the 20 foot walk over to the perimeter of their camp. Many of the delinquents watch on with caution, the older teenagers with their hands on their guns and the Grounders with their weapons already drawn. As Clarke and Wells approach, Shanara gazes up at them from where she kneels in the dirt. Wells grits his teeth together in anger as he sees what the Grounders have done to her. Shanara's face is too bruised and beaten for her to portray any emotion on her features, not that she knows what emotion she wants to convey at this very moment anyways. She can sense the tension between both parties though, there is obviously something that she is missing. So, exhausted and defeated, Shanara kneels there without moving or saying a word.

Untying the ropes binding Shanara's wrists together, Wells and Clarke lift her from the floor, each of them on either side of her. As they turn away, Anya opens her mouth.

"Your healer is strong," she says, making everyone pause. "Foolish, but strong."

Shanara doesn't react, her mind consumed with too much to fully process Anya's words.

All three of them walk back to the crowd gathered in the middle of their camp. Once they are safely out of reach, Shanara looks over to Anya as she stays exactly where she is, hands folded together, her Grounders standing stoic beside her.

"Out of respect, the Commander has delayed negotiations for two days to allow your primary healer to recover," Anya informs Clarke and Graham, her expression hard. "The Commander has also decided to give you what is left of your medical supplies so that you may help heal her."

In separate edges of the clearing, two Grounders place both medical containers on the boundary. Then as quickly as they came, the Grounder envoy retreats into the woods and vanish.

Shanara watches them carefully as they go. It took all her energy not to collapse the moment that Clarke and Wells helped her to her feet because what was left of her pride did not allow her to show anymore weakness in front of the Grounders. So, as Anya spoke, Shanara stayed still on her feet, her breathing as even as possible. Now that they are out of sight, her breathing becomes involuntarily quicker.

A small shout escapes the young doctor as she collapses in the arms of her friends, the constant ambiguity over the fate of her own mortality finally taking its toll on Shanara's sanity.

* * *

Shanara thrashes as she shouts and groans, forcing Wells, Graham and Murphy to hold down her limbs as Clarke tries to control the young doctor's bleeding, straighten her broken nose, dig dirt out of her open wounds, and cauterise her many cuts. Falling in and out of consciousness, Clarke watches over her as her brow drips with sweat from a growing fever. Everyone floods in and out of the dropship, most come to ask about the young doctor's condition, even those who once had a great aversion to her.

By late afternoon, some six hours after she was given back to her people, Shanara stirs awake. With one eye swollen shut, she blinks the other open. Now fully conscious, Shanara stares up at the metal ceiling of the dropship without uttering a word. She knows that she's not alone since she notices Clarke in her peripheral vision, however the young doctor can't bring herself to speak. Wanting nothing more than to bask in the silence and stillness around her, Shanara lies in the makeshift bed and comforts herself.

Clarke is by Shanara's side when she slowly opens her eyes. A smile makes its way onto the blonde's lips but it quickly fades as she watches her friend lie still and defeated, her one eye unblinking. Clarke opens her mouth to say something, anything at all to fill the silence but she thinks better of it as she notices a single tear run down Shanara's face, the very epitome of her sadness and pain. Clarke holds in her own tears as she stays seated and quiet. If the young doctor wanted to say something, she would have. Leaning back in her chair, Clarke stays by her side and decides that it will be her friend that will speak first, if or when she is ready.

Time passes slowly, but eventually Shanara reaches out for Clarke's hand. Taking it, she looks at her friend's battered face with sad eyes.

"Are you okay?" Shanara asks, her throat dry.

"Yes," she replies, her voice almost a whisper. "Are you?"

"No," the young doctor admits, "but I will be."

A long moment of silence passes between them as they stare at each other with knowing eyes. Both have so much to say yet neither of them have the courage to speak.

"So, what's the diagnosis, Doc?" Shanara says in an attempt to lighten the mood. It doesn't work but Clarke forces a small smile onto her face for Shanara's sake.

"Bruised ribs, broken nose. We have no x-ray machine to confirm but you may have a non displaced collarbone fracture, I put your arm in a sling anyways. The stitches on your leg were torn, you've lost a lot of blood," Clarke frowns. "We have no thread left to stitch you up so I had to cauterize all your wounds to stop the bleeding. I gave you what was left of the morphine to help with the pain, it wasn't much but hopefully it will help."

"Any infections?" Shanara sighs uncomfortably.

"No," Clarke says with relieved smile. "You had a little fever so I gave you some antibiotics, but there are no external signs of infection. As long as we keep your wounds clean, get you food and water so you can strengthen your immune system, you'll be better before you know it."

"Thank you, Clarke. For everything," Shanara smiles up at her friend, glad to see a friendly face.

It's nightfall by the time either of them speak again. Feeling moderately better than she had only hours ago, Shanara's curiosity and worry takes hold of her mind.

"How long was I with the Grounders?" The young doctor asks. "I lost track of the time."

"Eight days," she sighs in reply. "I was with you for two of them, you were alone for six. It would have been shorter but we couldn't come to an agreement with Lexa and her advisers over your release. I'm sorry."

"Lexa?" Shanara's eyebrows furrow.

"Lexa, the girl who helped us with-"

"No. I know who she is, Clarke," the young doctor shifts in realisation. "But why were you negotiating my release with Lexa?"

Clarke pauses, her features very still. She speaks slowly as she replies, "Because Lexa is the Commander. I...I thought you knew."

Shanara lies back in the makeshift bed, both shocked and outraged. Lexa dressed differently to the rest of the Grounders, she didn't dress in luscious furs but in sparse material and she didn't carry a weapon. When any of the sky girls were looking, she'd act obedient which made the young doctor assume Anya and the others mistreated her, or perhaps the Grounders regarded Lexa as their social inferior, but she came and went as she pleased. As Shanara recalls her time in that dark room, she shakes her head in disbelief. The way all the Grounders acted around Lexa, it didn't seem natural, it was as if they were always cautious around only her. Lexa was there to witness Shanara's fight, right by Anya's side. She didn't look like a poor little girl then, she looked strong, dressed better than even Anya. But Shanara ignored the signs. It was all a lie, a very elaborate act. Of course Lexa is the Commander, it makes so much sense now. Shanara can't believe how blind she was, how could she have been so oblivious?

The young doctor writhes in anger. She's angry at herself, at Lexa. She feels betrayed and she feels stupid. All the things she told Lexa, it seemed so meaningless at the time but now? Now Shanara can't help but wonder if she's condemned herself and everyone else in this camp to hell.

"Why? Why would Lexa go through all that trouble?" Shanara starts to sit up. "Why would she lie about who she is? What, so she could listen in on our conversations?"

"Shanara! Don't move, you will hurt yourself-" Clarke exclaims.

Shanara ignores Clarke's words, too angry to even feel her pain. Turning to her friend, she asks again, "Why would did she do it?"

"I don't know," Clarke leans back in her chair, defeated by Shanara's stubbornness. "I asked her why when I found out she was the Commander but she didn't answer. Maybe it was so she could listen in on our conversations, maybe it wasn't. All I know is that when Graham and I first met with her, their main plan was to kill us all. I tried talking her out of it. I pointed out that their doctors couldn't save Tris but we did, I told her that we're willing to share our medical knowledge and our weapons with them but it wasn't enough to persuade her otherwise. Lexa said that we would benefit far more from an alliance than they ever would. I thought that they were going to kill us all that night, that they were going to start with you but they never came. Then Lexa called for a meeting late the next day, she had changed her mind. It took hours but we came to some sort of an agreement; as long as we stay far away from them, we can hunt freely during the day without having to worry about some sort of attack. Lexa agreed to have one of their doctors treat Jasper since we saved Tris, but you'd only be released when Tris no longer needed you. I had to help their primary healer with some of his patients, and now peace negotiations the day after tomorrow."

"Jasper? He's alright?" Shanara turns to see if he's lying in his makeshift bed, where he was when she left him over a week ago. The young doctor stops short, grunting in pain as her ribs scream at her, only to realise she's sitting in Jasper's bed.

"I told you to lie down," Clarke says, her lips forming a frown. "Jasper's not here, he's probably out with Monty. When Nyko treated him he was about to die but he's a fighter. Jasper's not exactly alright, he still has a long way to go but he's doing well, considering. Thankfully no one else has been injured since my release, except for you."

"I feel so stupid," Shanara touches her swollen eye.

"Why?"

"Because I could have avoided all of this," the young doctor gestures to all her injuries with her one good arm. "If I hadn't have fought Ward then I wouldn't be in this fucking situation."

"That's how you got hurt?" Clarke leans forward in her chair, her eyes wide. "You got into a fight with a Grounder?"

"I thought they were going to kill me," Shanara explains. "All I remember is being dragged out of the wooden cabin I was staying in with no warning. No one told me why or where they were taking me. I just remember all the Grounders, watching like they were preparing for some spectacle. I asked Anya if she was going to kill me and she wouldn't answer, but she had this look on her face. I don't know how to describe it. It was like some sort of confirmation, I guess. I mean, Tris was getting better. They brought in Nyko, their primary healer, so they didn't need me anymore. No one told me what was happening here, for all I knew you were all dead already so I just assumed that those Grounders were taking me to my death. I didn't want to die so I did the only thing I could, I fought back. I thought I was fighting for my life, I had no idea I was being released."

"You did what you thought you had to do to survive. You shouldn't feel stupid because of it," Clarke grasps Shanara's hand reassuringly. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"At least I'm here now," Shanara shrugs lightly.

"I know it sounds awful," Clarke begins, "but that fight might have been good for you and I don't mean physically. When Anya handed you over she seemed like she respected you. She said that you are strong, of course she didn't need to tell us that, we already know," Clarke nudges Shanara playfully. "But it was a compliment nevertheless, something she's never given any of us. And Lexa never agreed to give us back our medical supplies, but she did it to help you. She even delayed the peace negotiations to give you some time to recover. She must have some sort of respect for you if she'd do all that."

Considering Clarke's words, Shanara doesn't feel as foolish anymore. Maybe the fight wasn't trivial after all, perhaps it did mean something.

* * *

When the young doctor wakes next, a girl with short brown hair is placing a cold piece of cloth on her forehead.

"Madelade?"

"Yes, it's me," she smiles down at her.

"I'm so glad you're alright," the young doctor sighs, blinking up at her childhood friend.

"I am, so are the other girls," Madelade informs her, squeezing Shanara's hand lightly. "So, don't worry about us, okay? Just focus on getting better."

"What time is it? Is everyone asleep?"

"It's nightfall. Everyone's outside by the fire, eating."

"I've had enough of lying in this bed," Shanara begins to shift.

"Then you better get used to it," Madelade stops the young doctor from moving. "You're badly hurt, Shanara. If you get up and start walking around you are only going to get worse. You've been taking care of us since the day we landed here. You need to rest, let us take care of you for once."

Shanara closes her eyes, knowing Madelade is right. It doesn't make it any easier on her though. Being left for hours to her own thoughts and nightmares is finally taking its toll on her sanity. Trapped in the metal dropship and lying in that bed, injured and unable to do anything makes the young doctor feel helpless, powerless, like some sort of victim, a feeling Shanara is slowly starting to loath. She doesn't feel right just lying down while everyone else is outside, fending off God knows who or what.

"Please, Madelade," she pleads with her friend. "I just want to go outside for a minute. Afterwards, I swear I will stay put in this bed until I'm better."

Madelade seriously considers the idea. She can hear the desperation in Shanara's voice, see the misery in her eyes, the anguish on her features. Who is Madelade to deny her simple request after everything she's been through. The seventeen year old girl cannot begin to imagine what is going through the young doctor's head, what she's feeling. If going outside will make her feel better, she can't say no.

"Clarke is going to kill me," Madelade smiles down at her friend as she starts to help her up into a sitting position.

"I'll talk to her," Shanara finds herself smirking, genuinely excited by the idea of getting up and going outside.

With her one good arm around Madelade's shoulders, she hauls herself off the bed and stands. Madelade struggles slightly as she supports the majority of the Shanara's weight when she nearly faints as a wave of nausea washes over her. They both pause as the young doctor breathes through her pain and tries to focus on not passing out.

"Shit, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," Shanara manages to answer through gritted teeth.

Together, the young doctor limps slowly to the dropship's entrance. With the moon and bright fire illuminating their path, she makes her way down the metal ramp and looks up at the large crowd paused in front of her. Straining a smile, Shanara blinks her one eye, looking for anyone familiar.

"What the-" A large form stalks toward her. Wells' wide eyes suddenly appear in front of her. "Shanara, what are you doing?"

"I told her to stay in the bed," Madelade tells Wells.

"Like I'd listen to anyone," Shanara grunts.

The three of the them walk to the fire. Some of the teenagers get up from the wooden logs, offering her their seat. Shanara shakes her head.

"No, thank you," she tells them. "If I sit down I'll never get back up."

Many approach the young doctor, offering her a short greeting and a few words, some of them filled with relief that she's alive, others wanting to know what happened to her at the Grounder camp, others saddened by her condition. Although it's all a little overwhelming, Shanara welcomes anyone that approaches, taking her time to remember the faces and voices of those she had thought were killed when she was held prisoner by the Grounders.

"Clarke's gone to get water," Wells informs Shanara. "You'll want to be back in that bed by the time she's back or you'll-"

"What the hell is Shanara doing up?" Clarke exclaims from the other side of camp, roughly dropping her side of the container causing the water within to spill over the edge and onto the floor. With his grip still tightly on the handle, Eric is pulled onto the ground by the heavy container when Clarke lets go. She splutters an apology, making her way over to the young doctor as Murphy helps Eric to his feet.

"Clarke, calm down. I'm just-" Shanara begins, being interrupted by her friend.

"Calm down?" Clarke looks at her incredulously. "You could have died, Shanara. You've barely even healed and now you're walking around when you should be resting. You could get an infection or hu-"

"Clarke," Shanara places her hand on the blonde's shoulder, pausing her mid sentence.

Clarke's frame goes rigid, her breathing quick and shallow. As her hands shaking from shock, worry and anger, she has to grit her teeth to keep the tears in her eyes from falling down her checks. Clarke has lost everyone. Her father is dead. Although her own mother betrayed her long ago, even if she wanted to talk to her she cannot, Dr Abigail Griffin is in space. Thalia, cellmate turned best friend, is dead. Clarke can no longer trust the boy she once loved, Wells. Shanara is the only one left. Her mentor. Her friend. Shanara is the only person on Earth Clarke really cares about, and she's been beaten to a pulp and there was nothing Clarke could have done to stop it. Any one of her wounds could get infected. She could lose Shanara at any moment and Clarke doesn't know if she can carry on if that were to happen. She's tried so hard to keep herself together, for everyone else's sake if not for hers, but she's slowly losing it.

Shanara seems to understand. She reassures the blonde by squeezing her shoulder, the young doctor's one good eye searching Clarke's frantic gaze, smiling best she can. The simple gestures slowly begins to calm the blonde. After a moment, Shanara lightly embraces her friend. An action neither of them knew they desperately needed. The young doctor had no idea that Clarke cared as much as she does. Suddenly, Shanara doesn't feel so alone anymore. There's hope that the emptiness inside of her and that familiar feeling of being lost could start to fade one day.

After some time, both girls break apart. The still camp, the tens of eyes staring at them stir back to reality and life continues as best it can. The powerful fire rages on as the delinquents eat and chat. Shanara speaks with Wells, Madelade and some of the girls, then some of Charlotte's friends, and soon her one good eye lands on Graham. She hobbles over to him. He watches intently as she struggles, his mouth in a hard line and his hand on the trusty gun slung around his shoulder. He dismisses those standing around him as the young doctor pauses in front of him.

"You look like shit," Graham is the first to speak.

"I feel it," Shanara admits.

They both fall silent, a knowing tension growing between.

"Graham, look," the young doctor begins, understanding that getting straight to the point is the best option in this situation. "I know we've never really gotten along. Hell, I really did hate you for a time and I'm sure the feeling was mutual. Perhaps you still don't like me but that doesn't excuse what I did. When I found the note Clarke left me I just took off, not even contemplating the idea of it being a trap. I should have told you, or at least someone. I just left you all here, and I'm _sorry_."

Graham stands there, still and quiet. The fire behind them flickers, casting shadows across his face which is void of any emotion. Although it is dark and her vision is impaired, Shanara can see a difference in the boy in front of her. The cut on his cheek is now nearly completely healed, it will leave a scar. His shoulders and arms are far more built than before, the material covering his body now stretched sparsely over his limbs. Most likely achieved from vigorous manual labour, hunting and chopping wood for the fire. His skin may be a little dirty, but his hands are undeniably redder compared to his usual light skin. A rare condition perhaps, no. Growing calluses, yes but not the cause of the redness. The vibrant staining around his fingers, under his nails, and in the creases on his palms, it's blood. Shanara has similar stains on her own skin, it's how she knows. No amount of water can wash the blood from their hands, both have tried to no avail. She can see that Graham hasn't only changed physically but mentally, too. He isn't the unpredictable and self righteous boy that landed on Earth anymore. Shanara can see it in his unwavering gaze, filled with familiar emotions the young doctor can't place. Horror. Exhaustion. Anger, perhaps. The things he's seen, the things they've all seen and been through. It's taking its toll on everyone. None of them are kids anymore.

If Shanara were anyone else, he might even seem dangerous or intimidating.

"Has anyone told you what happened here after you left and got taken?" Graham finally speaks, slow and purposefully.

"No," Shanara is almost afraid to answer.

"We want after you, sent search parties," his nostrils flair. "We were ambushed, twice. No one died this time, but plenty were hurt. Things were bad here. We were surrounded by those Grounders. We couldn't see them but they were out there in the woods, waiting for us to step foot outside of this clearing again. We couldn't hunt so we had no food. We couldn't get to the river so we had no water. You were gone so we had no doctor. We were starving and dehydrated. Half the camp were bleeding out from the attacks. Some of these kids were going crazy, wanting to kill themselves before the Grounders got to us."

He looks furious. He looks broken. For the first time ever, Graham looks vulnerable.

"Yes, you should have told me about the note. Yes, you should have said something to us before leaving. You're a hypocrite. We have to work together to survive, you said. You've been pretty fucking absent this past week, _Doc_."

Shanara opens her mouth to reply but the words are stuck in her throat. It isn't fair. She never asked to be kidnapped. Everyone thought Clarke was dead, when Shanara got that note all she wanted was to save her friend. Graham shouldn't be attacking her like this, blaming her for everything. As if she hasn't been through enough already, however Graham is right. She had been preaching about teamwork since they all landed on Earth and doing so almost patronizingly because she was older and she thought they were nothing but children. Never mind her good intentions, she still abandoned them when they needed her, when Graham needed help leading in Clarke's absence. Guilt washes over her and the words caught in Shanara's throat seem meaningless now.

Not knowing what to say, Shanara stays silent, simply staring up at Graham's hard face.

"What did they do to you?" Graham asks, frowning slightly. He leaves her no time to answer though, perhaps he doesn't want to know, maybe he can't bare to hear Shanara's reply. She's silently thankful since she is in no frame of mind to discuss her time with the Grounders. "You're not the same."

Again, Shanara is too taken aback by Graham's comment to reply. She wants to know what he means. How is she not the same? How has she changed? Her appearance has, of course but Shanara knows that is not what he means. What has led him to believe that she's any different? Her expression? Her body language? Maybe her reply, or lack there of?

"We've all changed, Graham," Shanara answers solemnly, never breaking eye contact. A frown makes its way onto both of their faces.

"I don't hate you," Graham admits. "And I am glad that you're alive."

Another moment passes between them and Shanara gives him one last nod, turning to leave before stopping when she hears Graham speak up.

"For what it's worth, Shanara," he says, his eyes wide and sincere. "I'm sorry, too."

She gives him a sad smile before re-joining her friends by the fire.

"Are you hungry?" Wells asks, offering her a piece of cooked meat. "Here."

"I'm okay, thank you," Shanara's one good arm touches her painful stomach. "I am thirty though, is there any water?"

"Sure, here you go," Madelade hands the young doctor a small, metal container filled with water.

Taking a tentative sip, Shanara finds herself then gulping the liquid down her tender throat, drinking every single drop from the container. Unwise in her condition but she's never been more thirty in her life. Her ribs hurt as she hands the metal box back to Madelade, thanking her. Suddenly finding it increasingly harder to swallow, Shanara's breathing becomes shallow. A painful stab starts radiating from somewhere in her abdomen and a burning sensation rises in her throat. As if something is stuck there, the young doctor coughs. Something pulls from deep within her chest and she coughs again, her hand going to her mouth. Shanara topples over, her friends going to their knees to help her. Her body convulses when her diaphragm contracts tightly as her coughing becomes uncontrollable. She retches, liquid spewing out of her mouth and onto her hand. Rising to her knees to take a breath, she looks down at the dark liquid pooling in her palm.

"It's blood," someone gasps from above her.

She's coughing again, blood and water spewing from her mouth and dripping down her chin. Shanara's breathing becomes panicked as her body shakes from pain, exhaustion and shock. Someone yells for Clarke as Shanara screams into the ground.

* * *

Equal parts excited and cautious, Shanara shivers as she wades into the cold water. Calmed slightly by the sound of the clear water running over her healing skin, the young doctor finds herself smiling and grimacing at the sensation of the liquid surrounding her body and stinging her many wounds. Using her one uninjured arm to move around in the water, she's careful to keep her feet touching the solid ground of the small lake. Shanara had once read about swimming in a book when she was in school. Water is rationed up on the Colony, so when the young doctor still lived on the ship the idea of swimming was impossible, and considered both futile and a waste of resources.

Shanara doubts anyone on the Colony knows how astonishing it feels though.

Using a piece of material, the young doctor scrubs the dirt, sweat and blood from her skin. Even plucking up enough courage to submerge her head, Shanara washes her long black hair in the icy water. Satisfied that her skin is the cleanest it can be, she turns and throws the cloth at Clarke. The blonde, sitting up on the lake side, catches the wet material and chuckles a little at how much her friend is enjoying the water. Clarke can't help but smile to herself, glad that Shanara is showing a sliver of happiness after her ordeal.

"How did you find this place?" Shanara asks, making her way out of the water and over to her friend.

"One of the boys back at camp found it," Clarke explains, rolling up her trousers and using the cloth to wash her legs and arms. "He followed the river and it led here."

"Why don't you just jump in the water?" Shanara limps over to the blonde, her underwear and bra dripping wet.

"Remember what I said earlier?" Clarke glances at the woods surrounding them, a small frown on her face. "The Grounders are probably out there watching us. I can't go in the water without my clothes on, knowing that they're there. I don't know how you do it."

The young doctor must have missed Clarke's earlier statement, perhaps too excited by the lake to really focus on the later half of their conversation. Shanara glances at the entrance to the forest, narrowing her eyes to see into the shadowy trees but notices nothing. Clarke's probably right. The Grounders are constantly spying on the delinquents at camp, no one ever sees them though but they feel their presence in the trees, so what is there to stop them from watching the two girls by the lake? Nothing. The idea of being spied on while bathing in her underwear should frighten Shanara, but it doesn't. She doesn't really care, not anymore. She does agree that her actions are a little stupid though. They could be kidnapped again, or worse this time, so walking around in her undergarments is not Shanara's smartest decision. She silently praises Clarke, but at this point Shanara is past the point of caring what happens to herself.

"The way I am now?" Shanara grunts as she sits down next to Clarke. "I'm really nothing special to look at."

Shanara isn't exactly wrong. She may be in her underwear and bra but her body isn't what it usually is, now it is weary and mangled.

Although Shanara has been feeling better over these last couple of days, she is looking worse for wear. Her knuckles aren't nearly as swollen anymore and she's regained the vision in both eyes since the swelling on her face has now gone down, but the bruising is still bad. The bruising under her one eye is quite severe. The purple and yellow discolouration is also spread around the bridge of her nose and is prevalent on the left side of her jaw. The laceration across her eyebrow and on the top of her forehead are closing up nicely, but they will leave scars. Shanara's lip is still busted but her teeth don't hurt anymore, which she is thankful for. The young doctor's shoulder is very stiff but both wounds Nyko cauterized are healing best they can. Sadly, the wound on her thigh will leave an awful scar but it is finally closed and healing over. The skin around Shanara's ribs is also dark from bruising and so is her right knee, but with time that will fade. Numerous little cuts lace her body, the young doctor ignores them though, they'll be gone soon.

Not dwelling on the mess that her body is currently in, the young doctor uses her fingers to comb through her long hair and tries to relax by lying down on the stone bank, listening to the lake and blinking up at the bright blue sky. Clarke does the same, their shoulders touching.

"Thank you for taking time away to bring me here, Clarke," Shanara says.

"You're welcome," Clarke smiles. "I think we both needed a break from camp for a little while. Since the meeting with Lexa finished early today and you won't stop hopping around camp helping people when I tell you to rest, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity."

"Peace negotiations aren't getting any easier then?" Shanara frowns, taking in her friend's depleted expression.

Sighing, Clarke shakes her head.

"I'm sorry," Shanara offers.

"It's not your fault," the blonde turns to the young doctor. "What Lexa is asking is entirely unreasonable, we can't agree to their demands."

Again, Shanara frowns at the frustration in Clarke's voice. If there was anything she could do to help, she would do it. Unfortunately, there's nothing she can do. Someone had suggested that she tag along to the peace negotiations which started yesterday, but Clarke and Graham both agreed that involving Shanara would be a very bad idea, especially considering everything that happened only a few days ago. To say that the young doctor was relieved when they decided to not involve her in the negotiations, is an understatement. Not only does she not want to be anywhere near Anya or the Commander in fear of lashing out at them and making everything worse, she has no interest in involving herself in the meetings, not that she believes she has the right attributes to rationally come to some agreement with the Grounders anyways. If Clarke and Graham want her impute, all they need do is ask. They know that, she herself told them that, but they haven't asked her for her advice as of yet so Shanara is not going to say anything about it. That is why the young doctor chooses not to say anything to Clarke now, but she reassuringly squeezes her friend's hand in reply.

"I didn't expect peace to be easy," Clarke rises into a sitting position, "but we were negotiating for the entire day yesterday and nothing came of it, only Graham's outbursts and vailed threats from Lexa's advisors. Today was even worse. Ambassadors from all the clans were in the meeting. Again, Lexa laid out demands that we just can't agree to, only this time, the threats weren't vailed anymore. I tried renegotiating, suggested other terms which we can actually agree to while also being beneficial to them. Lexa seemed interested but some of the Ambassadors certainly weren't happy with anything Graham and I said. Most of the meeting wasn't even in English. I can't understand their language but I'm pretty sure half of them just suggested killing us all instead of settling for peace, which is ironic because the whole reason today's meeting ended early is because one of the Ambassadors and Lexa's advisor nearly broke out into a knife fight."

"Fucking hell," Shanara shakes her head incredulously.

"Yeah," Clarke closes her eyes and rubs her forehead methodically. "These negotiations can't go on for much longer. The Grounders are getting restless and we're running out of options."

"So, what are you going to do?" Shanara joins Clarke in a sitting position.

"We can argue with them about the demands for as long as we can, but we're really in no place to say no," Clarke says, looking out across the lake. "Best case scenario is that we come to some sort of compromise."

"I believe in you," Shanara tells her friend reassuringly. "Whatever demands you and Graham agree to, I have no doubt in my mind that you fought for the best possible outcome. Anything is better than war. As long as we're all given a chance to live free, I'm sure we will all be happy with whatever comes from these negotiations."

"What if not all of us can be happy?" Clarke turns to Shanara, catching her off guard.

"What?"

"What if not all us can be happy?"

"What do you mean?" Shanara's brow furrows, worry creeping onto her features.

"Worse case scenario, Graham and I have to agree to Lexa's demands. What if that means only some of us could live free? What if only some of us could be happy and the rest, unhappy?" Clarke's eyes are wide, unwavering and frightening. "Is it worth it? Is it worth the sacrifice?"

Shanara sits there, perfectly still and her mouth parted in panic. All thoughts escape her and she stammers to find something to say, but that's not what Clarke needs. She needs genuine advice, not some meaningless bullshit. How is Shanara supposed to answer that question? There's a lot of context missing but she doesn't dare ask Clarke what the Commander's demands are, it's what Shanara wanted after all, she never wanted to be involved in these negotiations.

 _Sacrifice_. It's a word Shanara feels very familiar with. She sacrificed her life for Josie. Her father sacrificed his life for his daughter. Charlotte, Thalia and countless others lost their lives and for what? If Clarke and Graham don't come to some sort of agreement with the Grounders, they will end up dead. 100 delinquents buried in the dirt, lives wasted. They can't be happy if they don't live. Is the unhappiness of some a worthy sacrifice to free them all?

"We've come too far, been through too much, already made too many sacrifices to turn back now. If we don't make peace with the Grounders then everything that's happened to us would have been for nothing. All those lives lost in vain. We may not like it but if agreeing to Lexa's demands mean at least some of us get to be happy after all this...bloodshed and struggle," Shanara tells Clarke, "then yes, I believe it is a worthy sacrifice."

* * *

A day later, after meeting with the Commander for hours, Clarke and Graham stand in front of all that are left of the delinquents. Sitting tightly around the burning fire, the moon shining brightly up in the night sky, the teenage leaders are slow to speak. When the large crowd becomes restless, Clarke finally opens her mouth.

"The Grounders are divided into twelve groups that they call clans. These twelve clans live in separate territories. They're all different, led by twelve individual leaders. However, they all answer to a woman they call the Commander," Clarke explains slowly. "She's offered us an alliance. If we agree to it, it would mean peace between us and the Grounders. No more fighting. We'll be free."

"What's the catch?" Murphy asks from where he's sitting on the floor.

Graham glances at Clarke before he continues, "If we agree to the alliance, we have to agree to the Commander's demands. One of which include... _marriage_."

Shanara turns her head to Wells, her expression confused. They stand together at the back of the crowd, leaning up against the dropship's outer wall, watching on as everyone whispers amongst each other, unsure of what Graham means. Slowly, shouts of objection rise from many.

"Twelve of us will have to marry Grounders," Clarke continues over the noise. "One to each clan."

"Then what happens to the rest of us?" Jasper shouts, his mouth agape.

"That's another demand; those who do not marry will be split equally and live with the different clans," Graham frowns.

The crowd erupts into shouts, some even jumping to their feet in rage. Some shout at Clarke and Graham, belittling them, telling them that they're stupid to even suggest that they marry the Grounders. A few girls begin to cry. A few simply converse between each other, refusing to believe any of this is even real. Both Shanara and Wells stay silent, processing what they just heard in their own ways.

"Do you all want to fucking live?" Graham shouts, his brows furrowed. It's clear to see that he too is upset about this situation, but he knows that arguing is going to get them no where.

The crowd quietens and eventually one boy speaks up, "Yes."

"Then we are going to have to agree to the Grounders demands," Graham's jaw tightens. "Look, I hate this as much as you do but we have no choice. It's this or we're all dead."

"We can fight them," one girl says. "Why do we have to agree to their demands? We have as much right to be here as they do. We can fight for our freedom. We have guns, they only have knives."

"There are only eighty-seven of us," Clarke says. "The Grounders that attacked us before? That was only a tiny fraction of them, a small group from one clan. There are hundreds of Grounders, _thousands_. Yes, we have guns but our bullets will inevitably run out. Then what do we do? If we start this war, the Grounders will not stop until every single one of us are dead this time."

Slowly, it starts to dawn on the delinquents that their leaders are right. They have no choice.

"The Grounders have bigger problems than us. It's only recently that all twelve clans became allies. Before that, they were enemies at war with each other," Graham explains. "Eighty-seven of us are nothing to them. Half the clans don't even agree with the alliance but the Commander is going out of her way to negotiate peace. If we don't agree to the demands, that's it for us. This offer won't come around again."

"If we agree to the alliance," Clarke continues, "we won't have to fight anymore. We'll all be apart of the clans. We could actually start to live properly, not just scrape by anymore."

"Which twelve have to marry?" Wells asks when no one says anything.

"Essentially, the Commander wants to ensure that no uprisings happen between us after we're split up. So, she wants anyone that is a threat, anyone that could possibly start something, separated and married," Graham says. "The Commander wanted to hand pick the twelve herself but we negotiated and came to a compromise; three were chosen. As your leaders...Clarke and I have to marry Grounders. That leaves nine which have to volunteer, six girls and three boys. This is serious. Marriage is serious, so we've agreed that only those age sixteen and older can volunteer."

"Wait," Eric pipes up. "You said three were chosen. You and Clarke makes two, so who's the third?"

Clarke and Graham share a look but say nothing. Their attention drifts from Eric, over the seated teenagers and toward the back of the crowd. Everyone follows their gaze, turning to look over their shoulder, wherever they're seated.

The young doctor's own gaze is on the entrance to the woods. Her back is against the cold metal of the dropship and her one arm in a sling. Her long hair hangs over her shoulders for a change and her lab coat which was found in one of the medical containers, protects her from the cold breeze. She plays with a single piece of loose thread on the new trousers one of the girls had given her. Her clothes were in pieces after the fight with Ward. She took the cargo trousers and t-shirt given to her with a thanks and did not ask where they came from, fearing she already knew the answer. She listens intently to Clarke and Graham's words but her mind is still processing everything that they're saying. She wonders if the Grounders are out there in the trees, watching the delinquents having their meeting. Only when she notices the quiet around her does Shanara turn her gaze toward the crowd, finding everyone's eyes on her. For a moment, she doesn't understand why. Then, she remembers what was last said.

Quickly glancing at those in front of her, then at Wells, Shanara's eyes land on Clarke and Graham, "I'm not a threat."

"The Commander disagrees," Clarke frowns, her eyes apologetic.

"One of her demands is that the twelve who marry the Grounders _must_ include the three of us, Shanara," Graham explains. "If you refuse, the alliance is off and we have no choice but to go to war."

Tightening her jaw, Shanara's eyes close in realisation. _Sacrifice_. Clarke meant arranged marriages. The young doctor has only kissed one boy in her entire life and now she's expected to wed a complete stranger? Shanara always figured she'd marry one day, far off in the future. If her husband was from Phoenix, he would give her his mother's wedding ring. If she married someone from Walden or Arcadia, Shanara would ask for her own mother's ring. Of course, she wouldn't approve at first if they were from one of the outer ships but eventually she'd be happy for her only daughter. Her mother would help her find a simple gown at the weekly Exchange and the young doctor would work extra hours on the medical deck to save up points, enough to pay for a nice reception with maybe a bit of cake. Her father would walk her down the aisle.

Lin Preston is dead though and Shanara's mother is up in the sky. She herself is on Earth. Marriage doesn't mean the same thing as it does on the Colony. Up in space, Shanara would marry for love. Down on the ground, the young doctor must marry to survive, to save everyone's lives. Twelve of them must. Refusal is not an option.

Laughing out loud at the situation she's in, Shanara looks at Clarke and Graham, "I guess I'm going to have to get in shape if I'm to make a beautiful bride."

No one is amused by her comment but it does affirm that the delinquents are in fact going to adhere to the Commander's demands. Clarke, Graham and Shanara share a frown before proceeding.

"That leaves nine," Clarke sighs.

"The Commander suggested you, Wells," Graham crosses his arms over his body.

Clarke's eyes go wide and she turns to him abruptly, shocked and obviously furious with her co-leader.

"That doesn't mean he has to volunteer, _Graham_ ," Clarke says through gritted teeth. "What the _fuck_ , you swore you wouldn't say anything-"

"Look," Graham hisses in frustration, lowering his voice. "I know you're only trying to protect your little friend, but we're all being forced into this and if Wells-"

"Don't you think it's bad enough that we have to agree to these marriages?" Clarke spits back. "I am not going to let you drag Wells into this m-"

"I'll do it," a deep voice rings through the camp.

The two leaders stop arguing, turning to where the sound came from. Wells folds his strong arms over each other as he repeats himself, "I'll said I will do it. I'll marry a Grounder."

"Wells-" Clarke begins.

"He said he'll do it," Graham stops her. "That leaves eight."

Wells has always been Shanara's favourite Jaha. Perhaps it is unfair to choose between him and his father but she has always had an aversion to the latter, even before he sentenced her to death. She understands that as Chancellor of the Colony, Thelonious Jaha had to make so many difficult decisions however, there was always something about him that did not sit right with Shanara. Even before she can remember, she has always favoured his son. She once knew him very well, a long time ago. Unfortunately, before they all landed on Earth together, it had been months, maybe even a year since they last spoke. After Shanara finished school at age sixteen, she drifted away from both Clarke and Wells. It was difficult for Shanara. They had grown up around each other their entire lives. Shanara can still remember the days Wells would crawl around his home in nappies. Although there is only two years between them, up on the Colony, that two year age gap ripped their friendship apart. Wells would be in school, Shanara on the medical deck. They both tried to keep in touch but eventually it all stopped. Even now, they stand close to one another, strangers.

The boy that stands in front of her now is not the same boy she knew up on the Colony. Back then, he preferred the quiet and hardly ever spoke. He never chose to socialise, always being dragged to events by his father to do his duty as the Chancellor's son. That's all he was, the Chancellor's son. Wells Jaha was his father's shadow. Shanara half expected him to become some sort of trouble maker with all the pressure that was constantly placed on his shoulders. He never did though. Having been his friend, the young doctor saw the person that he grew up to be; a smart boy with a good temperament and a strict sense of doing the right thing. He would stand up for those in school that were bullied. He never used his father's power to influence others. Even down on Earth he would rather starve than see the young children go hungry. He dug the graves for their dead. Wells Jaha is much more than he was up on the Colony. He's stronger now, a better man than even his father.

A sad smile creeps onto Shanara's face as she watches Wells Jaha be the first to selflessly volunteer to be in an arranged marriage. She should have expected it, really. Even if Graham had not suggested it, there's no doubt in her mind that he would have volunteered anyways. Shanara finds herself praying that he will be happy one day. She hopes that they can all find happiness one day.


End file.
